#too bad it’s just my managers being proud of me for taking initiative on swapping projects w a teammate bc neither of us wanted to do the

[nighthawkes]

staring at my newly earned team rewards this month like they’re a tulpa that will make me feel happier with/more competent at my job

[natromanxoff]

I am sure many of you have already read this one but here are some parts from Ash Alexander’s Queen journey for those who haven’t!

“...At some point in early At some point in early 1983 on a visit to Jacky at the QFC, John Deacon wondered into the office. He came into the basement office and said hello as Jacky introduced me, sat down and spent a little time reading through press clippings. He could easily have slipped away back upstairs, but the fact that he stayed was a nice touch.

Another fan club letter arrived with good news. In Another fan club letter arrived with good news. In November 1983, fan club members were invited to help in a video for the new single 'Radio Ga Ga' at Shepperton Studios. Again, my Mum stepped up and drove me down for the day. I took the day off school and had just turned 14. We arrived at the studio and were ushered into a huge hanger where we were kitted out with white body suits and then sprayed with a light grey stripe on each arm - even now I’m not sure what the spray paint was for as you can’t see it in the video. When we had all been prepared, we were taken into an adjoining hanger and were greeted by the band and an initial play through of the song. The rest of the day was spent clapping as you’ll see in the video. I wound up in the front row, opposite Brian. If you look closely and you know what you’re looking for, you can see me!

In between takes, I approached John Deacon who was surprisingly on his own. I remember trying to remain calm as I approached him. I didn’t mention our brief meeting, I asked him how to get a job in recording studios and that I was interested in pursuing a career as a sound engineer. He was really helpful and took time to explain the usual route.

On 22, March 1984 at Limehouse Studios in London’s docklands, the video for ‘I Want To Break Free’ was filmed, again with the help of fan club members. I went along with my brother Andrew. The set was a big dark staircase that we all stood on. We were given black bodysuits this time that were sprouted with hello paint on the arms. We also wore a hard hat with a head lamp attached to it. The band were set in the middle of us all. After all the filming, we returned to the main building where we said hello to Roger. He’d come out to say thanks. Later, waiting for a cab down in reception, Freddie glided down the staircase and past us with his entourage. I remember wanting to get up and say thanks, but the opportunity was missed.

...20th April 1992. My friend Chesney Hawkes was managed by Trinifold. They also managed The Who. He invited me along to the Freddie Mercury Tribute gig at Wembley. Roger Daltry was appearing and Ches had a spare ticket. He only had one backstage pass though. This was overcome by him befriending the chap on the security door. Ches came out to meet me with his pass. He returned on his own and got in. I confidently flashed my pass and entered the Hard Rock tented area. Ches beckoned me over from the other side of the room. He was signing autographs for a lady, her two children and an older lady was with them. He introduce me to them saying I was a huge Queen fan. ‘This is Freddie’s mother' he whispered to me. I remember saying to her that I wish we’d met under different circumstances and how deeply sorry I was about her loss and how incredibly proud she should be. I often wonder about her.

...In Spring 1993, I was in front office. It was well after midnight and I’d left a s session for a little break. As usual, I took a look in the studio diary to see what was coming up. I flicked through the weeks and came upon an booking entry “Studio 3 - QUEEN” for 2 weeks that was pencilled in. There was no further info than that. I put my initials next to the booking thinking there would be a rational explanation as to what the booking really was. I soon found myself on a 2 week session with Queen.My diary from 1993 is lost, so I have only a mental note as to when & what songs were touched upon at this initial stage of 'Made In Heaven'. We started taking delivery of various multitrack tapes on varied formats. These were then transferred to digital 48 track tapes for future work. Roger & John were alone on these sessions as Brian was touring in Japan. I remember Roger being rather dismissive of Brian being unavailable, much like a brother sledging his sibling would do, with a slightly jealous edge but genuine at the same time.

...Over the 2 week session, Roger would suggest we went out for dinner. We had 3 or 4 meals out at a local Italian restaurant. Even now I laugh at jumping into the back of Roger’s Merc and the four of us driving down Abbey Road to the restaurant. It was owned by an Italian lady that would force you to smell her ‘wonderful mushrooms’ from a jar, which she made Roger do. On our initial meal she told Roger he looked familiar. ‘I know you’, she said. ‘Where have I seen you before?’ ‘Well, I’m in a band and we’ve been on TV before.’ Roger replied. John seemed calm with his lack of recognition. ‘What group do you play for?’ she asked. ‘I’m the drummer in a rock n roll band called Queen’ he replied. ‘No - I don’t hear of this band’ …We finished our food and the bill was called for. It showed up. John took it and asked Roger if he should use the Queen card to pay for it or his own card.

Roger’s drum kit arriving half way through the first week of sessions was a surprise for Noel Harris (the engineer) & me. We expected the sessions to be playing back tapes and working through the various formats to find possible material to be worked on at a later date. Noel was unfamiliar with the room in studio 3 and asked my opinion where to set the kit up and what microphones I would use. Eventually he left me to it. The kit was positioned and I mic’d it up that evening. John had his red Fender bass DI’d (no amp was used) and sat with us in the control room. I doubt these recordings made it through to the final mixes, it’s nice to think that they did.

...Tuesday 5th September

During the afternoon Brian’s guitar and a Vox AC30 appeared in the studio, brought in by Pete Malandrone. We were to do guitar overdubs on ‘You Don't Fool Me’. David asked me to put two Shure 421 microphones pointing into the back of the speaker cabinet. We did have two SM57’s on the front but these weren’t used in the recording.

I had to do a recall of the mix, which meant noting all of the studio outboard settings so we could get back to the mix and finish it off.

We had a technical problem with the Sony 3348 tape machine and eventually had it swapped for a new one. Brian clearly wasn’t aware we weren’t ready for him. I was half way through telling him and Jim Beach jumped in and finished off my explanation. Brian got really cross with him and slammed an empty coffee mug down on the studio table. Later Brian was so apologetic for his outburst. He must have told Jim he was sorry 4 times. As I type this I note it was Freddie’s birthday.

Brian slipped on his guitar that was linked to his amp with one lead. No pedals. His sound was instant and we were soon ready to record. He stood in front of the console in the control facing David & me.

Brian had an idea of what he wanted to play. The guitar riff had already been recorded. The solo guitar is what was added. Brian used a scrap of paper that he drew a map of dots on. Not like musical notation but his own short hand. It reminded me of being at the 'Radio Ga Ga' video shoot 13 years earlier. I was the same distance from Brian as I was then, but the scenario was beyond my imagination.

...Friday 8th September

Day Off - I may have met Pete Malandron at the Sun Inn in Barnes this afternoon. The QIFC was based round the corner at the time & Brian had a house there too, although I'm not sure he lived there at the time. I was with a friend and Pete joined us in the pub. He sat near the window and kept looking out of it. I asked what he was looking at and he replied "I always get worried when I'm out with Brian's guitar. It's in the boot of the car you see." He stayed for one drink and decided it was time to leave.

...One of the evenings of this second week, George Michael came to visit. There was a strong possibility that he would sing on one of the songs. Roger, John, Brian, David, George & I sat chatting in the control room. One of the conversations moved onto the Beatles and their current 'best of' release. I think Brian suggested that it was a bad idea releasing all their old material and I piped up that the fans would buy it regardless, much like the scenario Queen were about to face with the imminent release of the album. There was a deathly hush as I realised what I was saying. I wasn’t being at all derogatory. I was helped out of the hole I was digging by George who agreed with me and we moved on. No one actually spoke about doing a vocal. After George left the studio that evening, Roger was clear that he wasn’t keen on the idea.After looking through the Vintage Car garage across the road from the studio one afternoon, Roger saw a black Cadillack convertible that he quite liked. The following morning he came into the studio and said ‘Don’t tell Jim, but I bought the car.’ It was £80, 000.

Brian asked me if had been involved in the Abbey Road Sessions. Perhaps he’d seen my name on the tape boxes. I said that I was. Immediately he made a phone call. I didn’t hear all that he said, but I knew it was about a special thanks on the album credits. The following morning, after the artwork had been finalised, Roger came in and said ‘morning Aardvark’. Because the special thanks were alphabetic, I was on top of the list. It wasn’t until I bought a copy of the album and saw my name on it that I finally took on board that I had actually achieved one of my dreams.”

[jaybug-jabbers]

All-Glitch Pokemon Blue Run Pt13: Fossils of the Future

June,

I am terribly grateful that you’re still all right after encountering all those glitch trainers. Judging by your notes, it was an extremely trying experience. This does seem to confirm my beliefs, in the very least, that there is something special about you. You seem to possess a certain resiliance and resistance against the effects of glitching, enough that you merely black out and wake up later, typically none the worse for wear. Still, you musn’t start to believe you are invincible. I ask that you still exercise caution in your experiments and exploration. 

I must also thank you for your detailed notes about all of the glitch trainers you encountered. These observations will prove invaluable to my work, I feel. June, I was a little nervous when you first started out as my assistant, but you have proven that you are not only talented with glitches but that you possess the adventuresome spirit and eye for detail that are the marks of a true scientist. I’m very proud.

I hope that you enjoy your day of rest. When you’re finished, we have more work to do. It’s about time you come to meet me in person at my lab. After your return to Fuscia City, you won’t be far. At the moment, my colleagues and I have been working on a new method of researching glitch pokemon. It involves injecting glitch pokemon DNA into fossils and then reviving the fossils. It’s very cutting-edge, and I’d like you to help me in the Cinnabar Island lab. 

Looking forward to finally meeting,

-Professor Gingko

---

Professor,

I’m glad my notes are gonna help you out! And I’m happy I’ve been of help. Honestly, I wasn’t sure about this whole thing either, but . . . it’s been really interesting looking into all this glitch stuff. I dunno what it is, exactly, but it fascinates me. And the glitch pokemon . . . the more I work with them, the more attached I get to them. They’re so strange and alien, but also so familiar, in a way. They kind of remind me of bug pokemon. They’re weird and wild, but they’re also so cool and loveable.

Uh, anyway. I thought I’d let you know how my trip to Saffron went.

One of the top places to go for tourists in Saffron is the Silph Company, that massive corporate building that loves to give tours to trainers. Show off all the pokeball production and latest tech gadgets. I planned on doing that, but unfortunately I ran into a little trouble. The entire building was crawling with those ‘Team Rocket’ creeps.

It was kind of a slog beating all the guys who kept wanting a piece of me-- put a dampener on the fun of looking around. To make matters worse, I then ran into Professor Oak’s freaking grandson once again. He was determined to beat me in a fight. 

Thing is, his levels were pretty high compared to mine, and I was nervous. He started with a Pidgeot, a full level 37 by now. Dusty had been my lead pokemon, but I switched to Fractal. I admit this was just to distract Pidgeot so I could then safely bring in Wobbles, my powerhouse with a great ice move. That’s not a strategy I love using, but we were in a desperate situation. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t work. Pidgeot outsped Wobbles anyway, and took him out in one hit.

I put in Giago to try and have a go with her, but Pidgeot fights dirty and after a little bit was kicking sand in Gia’s face. So I swapped out again and tried Dusty once more. And you know what? I never should have doubted Dusty. She got a lucky freeze and kept pelting away with Ice Beams until the Pidgeot went down. 

Gia was able to handle the Growlithe, and Dusty took out the Exeggcute-- barely, but she did. Charmed got to see her first taste of battle and slashed the Kadabra to death. Finally came Blastoise, which was a whopping level 40. 

I was worried. Giago’s weak to Special attacks, and Wobbles was already fainted. I did as much damage as I could with Charmed, then after going down to Hydro Pumps, I finished it off with Giago.

It was a close battle. Very close. But we pulled through, and I think I learned some things, especially losing Wobbles so early in the match. Wobbles is my ace, my powerhouse, and the one to usually protect us all when we’re outclassed in a battle. But Wobbles goes down to physical attacks in an instant if he happens to be outsped or doesn’t kill right away. When that happened, I thought for sure we were toast. But we weren’t. Giago and Dusty did a lot of work to save us. 

It was a true team effort, too. Giago has immense defense and HP and is the wall of the team, but her Special makes even her frail to powerful Special attackers. Charmed was important to have around to take the Special attackers on. Dusty helped make up for Gia’s weakness as well, somehow taking out a Pidgeot and an Exggecute, despite having some rather low stats. Seperate, they may not have made it, but together they managed to snatch victory. 

After that battle, finishing off the Team Rocket thugs was a breeze. At the top floor I found some dude who claimed to be the leader of the group. He was being obnoxous, so I battled him and forced him to leave. The president of the Silph Company was grateful for that, and he gave me a free pokeball! 

After that, I decided to visit the local gyms during the rest of my free time. I figured I may as well.

After some shopping and relaxing, I finished out my day in Saffron. Overall, not bad. But I’m eager to see your lab at Cinnabar Island. I’m on my way to Fuscia now, to take out Koga at his gym. That’ll give me the clearance I need to Surf around here. Then I can head over to Cinnabar. 

I’ll let you know when I arrive!

-June

---

June,

Excellent. I’m glad you’re bonding so well with your glitchmon, and I’m glad you’re on your way now. Allow me to ellaborate a little on the fossil conversion process we’ve developed here.

The process partly involves something you have already done in the past. Recall when you handled that glitchmon #C6 with the Superglitch move? Yes. You will be repeating those steps, although this time, your C6 should know Double Slap, not Mega Kick. The easiest method is to simply capture another C6 for the task. 

Once you’ve initiated the controlled Superglitch corruption, according to the steps you learned previously, meet me here at my lab. Give me the Helix fossil you collected previously. You will then do some swapping with a pokemon in your expanded party-- the 33rd pokeball, to be exact. I will take this 33rd pokemon and use its DNA to splice with the Helix fossil, and we can revive a glitched pokemon as a result.

Be sure to return the 33rd pokemon to its proper place when finished and then repeat the steps you followed last time for ‘cleaning up’ after controlled Superglitch corruption.

-Professor Gingko

---

Professor,

It was wonderful to finally meet you face-to-face! The lab was nicer then I imagined. A little small, but still fascinating. I enjoy the ocean breeze and the atmopshere of Cinnabar Island, too. It’s the perfect place to study pokemon.

Your lab assistant is a little hard to understand, but I get the feeling he doesn’t get out much. Anyway, I have the glitchmon we revived, #C9, and I’m trying him out in battle now. Sometimes he blends in with the scenary if there’s a lot of rocks around, but he screeches a lot so I usually can find him that way. He’s been an energetic fellow, so I can’t wait to see what he can do!

-Junebug

---

Glitchdex #: C9/201 

Family: Onix Hybrid (95)

Type(s): Rock/Ground

Species Keyword: FRIENDSHIP

It seems to form great friendships with Drowzee. It is best to keep a Drowzee with this POKEMON to allow it to reach its full potential. 

—

End Notes

Glitches mentioned/used in this post:

* English Fossil Conversion Trick

Click for the next part of the series!

This is a repost on a new blog. The original post was on Jan 2, 2020.

[yukiversity]

[2.0] My Dream Guy Became A Dog [c2]

Su Xiaotang craned her neck and scanned the newcomers with hopeful eyes, but shrivelled back into a malnutritioned lump when she did not see the person she was looking for.

The atmosphere instantly became livelier with the addition of more people, which managed to disperse the initial tension.

The class president had his own agenda for calling these newcomers over; most were still single, and it did not take long before many within the room hooked up and separated into pairs.

Li Ranran had set her eyes on a tall, slender man, yet decided to stay with Su Xiaotang in case the latter got bullied again if left on her own. However, Su Xiaotang couldn’t take the expression on Li Ranran’s face anymore--it was as if she had a platter of fresh xiaolongbao in front of her, but wasn’t allowed to eat any--and shooed Li Ranran away.

And so, while Li Ranran struck up an animated conversation with the guy she had been eyeing and Meatball was having the time of his life playing with the ladies, Su Xiaotang slumped in a corner with a piece of cake precariously balanced on her fork. It was her favourite flavour, but she just had no appetite.

*

“Sorry for coming late.”

The deep and mellow dreamlike voice lingered in her ears, similar to how the taste of dark chocolate spreads inside your mouth when it melts on the tip of your tongue. It was as if a warm breeze had caressed Su Xiaotang, leaving her feeling like a flower bud in spring that was ready to blossom.

That familiar, tall figure was standing by the door when she raised her head.

Fang Jingshen wore a grey British-style sweatshirt over a white collared shirt with a black coat draped over his arm. He looked crisply handsome and shone brighter than the sun in Su Xiaotang’s eyes.

But the light in Su Xiaotang’s eyes immediately dimmed after seeing Shu Tian behind him.

Due to Fang Jingshen and Shu Tian’s popularity back in their university days, the others in the room teased, “You guys actually came at the same time! Did you get back together? Congrats, congrats!”

Shu Tian smiled and didn’t say anything, but her eyes lingered on Fang Jingshen.

“It was a coincidence,” Fang Jingshen said casually as he hung up his coat and sat down.

A shadow flashed across Shu Tian’s eyes, yet she sounded open and carefree as she said, “Stop using us to joke around! I already have a boyfriend.”

Then she smiled and aimed the conversation in a different direction: “Although our Doctor Fang is still single!”

Her words made it sound like Doctor Fang still had feelings for her, since to this day, Fang Jingshen had only ever had one official girlfriend--and that had been Shu Tian.

And so everyone started talking about Fang Jingshen.

“Hey, now that you mention it, Doctor Fang’s doing the most well out of all of us. He’s already an associate professor at such a young age, and he’s booked until next year to treat new patients. He has such a promising future!”

“That’s nothing compared to his family background…”

…

*

It had been a while since the last time Su Xiaotang felt like she just sat through multiple rollercoaster courses in the span of mere minutes.

She thought she had put it all behind her, but the feelings she had compressed down deep in her heart swelled up like a tsunami the moment she saw him, and smacked her to death on the beach with a single wave of water.

Li Ranran had come to sit beside her at some point while Su Xiaotang was zoning out. She touched the latter’s face and jumped in surprise. “Why is your face so hot? Do you have a fever?”

“Huh? What?” Su Xiaotang asked blankly with dazed eyes.

Li Ranran looked at Fang Jingshen, then back at Su Xiaotang. “You… You don’t still like him, do you?” she asked hesitantly.

Fang Jingshen had been a heartbreaker back then, and nine out of ten girls had fantasized about being with him. Li Ranran had been one of them, too, so she did not think that Su Xiaotang’s feelings for that type of unattainable man were real. She was not so sure now.

She suddenly remembered that Su Xiaotang had started dating Song Minghui after Fang Jingshen had gotten together with Shu Tian, and Su Xiaotang and Fang Jingshen were both this city’s locals so they had attended the same high school… Unless…?

It couldn’t be what she thought it was, right?

“Well, he is a nanshen~ What’s so strange about liking him~” Su Xiaotang’s heart skipped a beat but managed to maintain the carefree smile on her face.

Hearing her reply in her usual tone of voice made Li Ranran suppress her sudden suspicions.

*

Although Song Minghui and Lin Xue were sitting right opposite her and engaging in PDA, Su Xiaotang really couldn’t care any less about them. With Fang Jingshen’s appearance, every pore on her body breathed just for him and her every nerve focused on his every movement. Not only this, but she also had to crank up her defense system to prevent other people from noticing her emotional changes.

Fang Jingshen did not sit far from her. There were only two people between them, and he was talking to his neighbour about some specialised topics. She noticed he had not touched his drink.

He never drank this brand.

So Su Xiaotang thought of secretly swapping her unopened can with his.

She knew the brand he liked, and eventually her tastes became influenced by his so she would order the same drink. She had tried his favourite food because she wanted to know what flavours he liked, and she had read his favourite books because she wanted to know what he was thinking about. She had observed him quietly and felt proud of his every honour and achievement.

If you absolutely had to ask Su Xiaotang what sort of existence Fang Jingshen was to her, it would be this: the feeling of eating something yummy and eagerly wanting to share it with him, and being more satisfied if he ate it than eating it herself.

*

“Hah! Su Xiaotang, I didn’t know that you still remember Jingshen’s favourite drink even after all these years!”

Su Xiaotang had no’t pulled her hand back yet and she froze upon hearing Shu Tian’s words. There were lots of people in the room, so she had no idea how Shu Tian noticed her inconspicuous fidgeting in the corner.

And yet, this was just the beginning of her nightmare.

Shu Tian had drunk some alcohol so her speech was slurring a little. “What? None of you guys know? Didn’t I tell you already, Jingshen? This roommate of mine is your number one fan! She knows every single one of your likes and dislikes. She used to watch you every day at school, and I once saw her sneak a photo of you attending that tournament into her folder. If I remember correctly, Xiaotang and Jingshen went to the same high school so she probably started liking you from then? Otherwise she wouldn’t have cried in bed for so many nights when we got together. It made me feel a bit bad, to be honest…”

Stop talking, stop talking… please, stop talking…

Li Ranran blanked out for a moment before coming to her senses. She thought she knew Su Xiaotang well enough already, but she never knew her feelings for Fang Jingshen ran so deep.

For a while everyone wore various expressions from listening to Shu Tian, but their gaze on Su Xiaotang was the same--as if they were looking at a freak.

It would have been a different story if the girl in question was a beauty, but what if she was a fatty? Then it would be a freak show. Unfortunately for Su Xiaotang, reality was harsh.

No one stopped Shu Tian’s storytime. If anything, they treated it as entertainment and all waited for her to spill some more goss.

Shu Tian glanced at Song Minghui and continued: “I remember I asked Xiaotang back then if she was interested in Song Minghui, but she denied really vehemently. Who would’ve thought she’d get together with him that fast once Jingshen and I started dating. Huh…”

That single “huh” was full of so many hidden meanings.

Shu Tian’s words sent her audience into an uproar. Song Minghui, in particular, was growing redder and redder every second.

Su Xiaotang was shaking all over. The coldness was like she was standing in an icehouse, but not only was she stripped of her clothes, her skin was also being peeled off layer by layer with a dull knife.

Li Ranran had never seen Su Xiaotang, who was always so cheerful and optimistic, make an expression like she was doing now. Livid, she shot to her feet. “Shu Tian! Haven’t you said enough?”

“What? I’m not wrong, am I?” Shu Tian pointedly looked at Su Xiaotang as she asked, “Xiaotang, did I misunderstand? Don’t you like Fang Jingshen?”

Back in their university days, Su Xiaotang’s dorm room was well known amongst the students for having a beauty like Shu Tian and a fatty like Su Xiaotang under the same roof, so people would often bring up Su Xiaotang as a joke when talking about Shu Tian.

Su Xiaotang may have been fat, but she was definitely not ugly. Unfortunately for her though, her roommate was Shu Tian--and when you compare her to Shu Tian, the belle of the school, well… of course Su Xiaotang would be a joke.

Although Su Xiaotang had not been close enough with Shu Tian to be best friends back then, they did not have any particular grievances with each other either. Not in her wildest dreams did she expect Shu Tian to not only suddenly rip open and pour salt into an old wound, but also shake out all of the feelings she had carefully hidden away for seven years…

Li Ranran gritted her teeth. “What’s wrong with liking Fang Jingshen? I liked him too! There’s no girl here who didn’t fantasize about him!”

“If that’s so, then what are you so worked up about?” laughed Shu Tian.

Li Ranran opened her mouth to retort but was cut short by Su Xiaotang, who jumped up and raced out of the room.

It’s okay. Don’t think about it, Su Xiaotang told herself desperately. Didn’t she stay calm and composed when Song Minghui brought his girlfriend today to show off?

But why was it that she could not stop her heart from freezing over when she thought about how Fang Jingshen would think? So in the end, she could not keep sitting there…

As she lurched out of the door, she heard Fang Jingshen’s chilly voice behind her: “You went too far, Shu Tian.”

Tears poured down her face.

*

Su Xiaotang locked herself in the bathroom for a good half hour before calming down somewhat.

She would never be able to show her face in front of her classmates again after what happened today. Especially not in front of Fang Jingshen.

Su Xiaotang’s eyes started burning again as she thought about it and she hurriedly slapped some cold water on her face. Keeping her head bowed, she walked out of the bathroom and texted Li Ranran to say she would be leaving now.

Text sent. She raised her head and her limbs locked into place upon meeting eyes with the very last person she wanted to see at this time.

Holding a cigarette as he stood in the hallway, Fang Jingshen looked like he had been waiting there for a long time.

Awkwardness, shame, excitement, embarrassment, nervousness… these emotions combined together and erupted. Su Xiaotang was quite sure her expression did not look good at the moment. If anything, she probably looked like a psycho.

All sorts of words jiggled around inside her mouth, but in the end only two words made their way out. “I’m sorry…”

He must be feeling ashamed, right? Being liked by such an unpleasant person…

Fang Jingshen gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment before asking, “Do you like me?”

Su Xiaotang’s cheeks were on fire. Yet despite being nervous as heck, a sudden urge to express her thoughts bubbled up from the depths of her heart.

“Yes, I like you,” she heard herself answer against the drumming inside her chest.

“Just what do you like about me?” Fang Jingshen paused before continuing in a discernible tone, “My looks? My medical skills? My family background? Or…”

She was finally able to say it after a full seven years. Nervous to the point of fainting and desperate to prove her sincerity, the words slipped out before she could even think twice: “Of course not, that’s got nothing to do with it! I’d still like you even if you turned into a dog!”

Awkward silence blanketed the air as soon as her words came out.

Fang Jingshen’s expression was difficult to describe as he arched an eyebrow.

That… sure is an unexpected way to confess…

By this point, Su Xiaotang was ready to jump into the ocean and sink to the very bottom. Actually, anywhere was fine as long as she could disappear! For God’s sake, what was she even going on about!!!

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I’m not saying you’re a dog… I mean if you were… well… I, um…”

Su Xiaotang did not want to open her mouth ever again.

Why did she have to lose her marbles in front of him!

Fang Jingshen felt a strange urge as he studied the girl in front of him, whose red cheeks and overall roundness made her pitiful expression look puppy-like. It was an urge to… pinch?

And that was exactly what he did.

Su Xiaotang heard something shatter the instant those long, cool fingers pinched her cheek.

It was her heart exploding into pieces from emotional overload…

STAFF

Neves: translator

Rat: proofreader

Neves's translation notes

Hello and apologies for the delay (over 2 years omg) in getting Chapter 2 out. To our remaining readers, Yukiversity 2.0 is back! And to our new readers, welcome! 1/3 of this chapter had been sitting in the drafts box since November 2017, and the remaining 2/3 just got translated and checked this evening. Tbh I'm quite tired lol but I'm about halfway through Chapter 3 so let's see if I can power through or not 🥺

There's been a change in staff! Rat and Pudsie have joined on as proofreaders. I'd like to thank these friends for their noble sacrifice

In other news, please read this for a bit of lukewarm tea that happened while Yukiversity 2.0 was offline.

Apologies for being MIA for so long but we're back now. Next chapter is where the fun starts! Thank you for reading~

dontforgettolikeandsubscribe 🥺👉👈

[ombreecha]

Too Good

Series: Endurance Fandom: Naruto Pairing: SasuSaku Rated: M Prompt: my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick AU Notes: I’ve literally been saving this prompt since like September of last year. The first time I saw it I just fuckin knew I had to do it at some point. You can thank @kingofthesharingan​ and my weekly NSFW Monday too because Monday sucks so why not make it a day to look forward to.

Chilled air, and puffs of white coat everything in sight. Her hands are gloved but that doesn’t stop her from rubbing them together to provide herself with more heat. Christmas is around the corner and the company party is even closer. It’s her first time attending. Anxious? Absolutely. Scared? Beyond her wildest dreams.

Her seniority with the company wasn’t high. Six months she’s been employed by Uchiha Corp, and it’s been a blessing if anything. Her boss is a lovely woman. When she had been interviewed the woman had held such stiff air about her. Poised. Serious. Collected.

Mikoto Uchiha was anything but stiff, serious—let alone collected. They couldn’t be further from the truth. Now as for poised? Absolutely. The woman had some serious elegance to her. It made it perfectly clear that she had been breed for such things. She can’t help but look up to this woman who had so much on her plate, and still managed to be kind, charismatic, and loving.

What she hadn’t expected though was how much her boss had begun to push. What was her boss pushing? How perfect her son was for her. There’s a burn upon her ears. Every time she brings this boy up she can’t help but feel embarrassed. There’s no doubt that Mikoto had probably raised a wonderful son—but she’s not entirely sure about anyone born with a silver spoon in their mouth.

That’s not even bringing for the possible conflict of interest that lies in such relationships. She likes her job. The last thing she needs is for it to be ripped out from under her all over some rich kid who may or may not be attractive.

She’s not doubting Mikoto’s genes—but she just can’t help but be skeptical. There is such a thing as too good to be true.

The commute home isn’t long and the only positive is the subway is heated. The rock of the train car isn’t bad. It’s become a part of her daily life, and while at first she had struggled when she moved her it’s barely even felt. All she knows is she needs a good night rest before she attends this company party—and meets this all too talked about son.

There’s a thick swallow and a groan as she remembers her bosses teasing. She had supposedly spoken just as much about her to him as well. There’s no way he wasn’t dreading this as much as herself. Hopefully. Okay. So, she’s not so sure. She’s heard a lot but that doesn’t mean she knows anything about this kid outside of the boasts coming from an obviously proud mother.

A groan escapes her lips as she peels her heels off her feet and leaves them scattered about in the entry way. Her bag hits the floor not far behind as she seeks to get herself relaxed and comfortable. Swapping from suit to a night shirt she’s dug from the bottom drawer is easily done. A bowl of ice cream, and some television is just the right combination to washing away the office tension from her shoulders.

A hum, and a flicker through channels as she lays upon the couch as unladylike as possible. If only her boss could see her now. Yeah—her boss has probably painted her as so much more than she really was. Fingers roll through her hair before swiping her phone right off coffee table. That thought right there has brought back the tension in full force. Groaning is all she can do as she flips through the screen.

Swinging her leg over the other she can’t stop the habitual light motion that follows. There’s always one way to get herself relaxed and she’s not afraid to use it. Puffing her cheeks she’s tapping away at the keyboard. The individual she’s texting would most likely fall into the category of a one night stand. It had been just the fix she had needed months ago. Work was at an all time high in the stress department had the time and one thing lead to another—she had ended up in a bar for a quick drink before heading home when he had run into her at the counter.

No names exchanged. Just clothes hitting the floor and him pressing her against her bed. Her mother taught her better sure, but sometimes a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do. It had been exciting. Sloppy, and intoxicated, as well, but exciting nonetheless. Humming is all she can do as she thinks back to that moment. They hadn’t met back up since that first time. They still refrained from exchanging names, but what they did exchange was numbers. Once in a while she’ll shoot him a text requesting a simple picture because that’s what gets her through the stress at work anymore.

She says it’s simple, but never in her wildest dreams would she had thought this boy would comply. —and he does every single time. No questions asked.

It’s an odd little arrangement, if she’s being honest, considering the lack of personal information, but she’s not complaining. It keeps things from being messy and god knows she’ll probably never run into him again unless they set it up. All of this is good enough for her.

So when her phone goes off there’s the smallest of smiles spreading across his face. It had been more than good and maybe that’s what had pushed her to ask for it the first time, and the time after that—and that’s whats gotten her brazen enough to ask for it whenever she’s needing some alone time.

Dick pics weren’t exactly something she was notorious for requesting. —but she’d be damned if she didn’t ask him for one once in a while.

That quick look over and she’s feeling warm. It’s not hard to just think of the way his hands had gone over her skin, or how his breath had been right against her ear before he made his way down.  Sliding his fingers upon her stomach and then wrapping around the around the band of her panties he had tugged them up at first which she hadn’t been prepared for, and then in only another moment—a second—she could feel his tongue going over the fabric and against where she wanted him most. The tug upon them had her hips lifting to give him an easier time to remove them. Lips against her thigh and the way he slid them down her legs had her panting.

He hadn’t been shy when he had thrown them behind him and across the room. All of this is vivid and she’s already accepted it’ll be a long time coming before she’ll stop using that one night as her primary masturbation material. That’s all she has to tell herself when she’s dipped her own hand underneath her panties.

Her fingers can’t possibly replicate the way his tongue had dipped in between her folds, nor could they give the exact same feeling that came with he had slid it over her clit. It’ll do though—she doesn’t need much. The buck of her hips is all too remembered. He had slide his hands up her sides and pressed his hands flat against her pelvis to keep her steady as he continue to have his fill of her.

Her neck stretches back letting her head roll against the couch cushion. Lips open and a moan escapes her as she starts with one finger working herself slow and evenly. It wasn’t as frenzied as he had been. Starved is what she would of considered him in that moment. Sliding her tongue against the roof of her mouth is barely noted as she takes another glance upon the requested picture of the night.

It’s got her hot and ready as she thinks of how it had slide inside of her. That first initial penetration was always the most satisfying. Filling her up, and with her leg draped over his shoulder. He wasn’t loud but those hot breaths back upon her skin had been more than enough. He spoke on grunts and the occasional groan as he started out slow.

Adding another finger doesn’t do him justice but she, just as with everything else, had accepted she would never be able to replicate the way he had felt. None of that stops her from enjoying what she’s doing to herself nonetheless. When she quickens her fingers pace she’s arching and letting out hot breaths. She’s enjoying herself far too much—thank god for this man and his dick pictures.

The release she feels is bittersweet to a point. It’s explosive because she’s picturing him slamming into her and nibbling upon her ear, and then it’s over all too soon. The way she rolls her head back as she rides it out reminds her briefly of the fact her fingers are much too small compared to him literally filling her up and stretching her up. That thought right there has her riding it out longer before settling her hips down upon the couch.

Catching her breath she brings her hand from out of her underwear and swings herself forward. Clean up is quick and simple, and damn does she feel better. Who cares about the company party? She got off and that’s all she cares about in this moment before shutting the lights out and nestling into bed.

The next day isn’t bad. A shower, brushed teeth, and a small look within the mirror has her ready for whatever happens. All she’s gotta do is politely reject whoever her bosses son is. This little arrangement of hers is more than enough.

Heels click against the office floor and the filing of her paperwork is for the most part easily accomplished even if their filing system needs some serious work.  The occasional glance over her wrist watch comes as the clock ticks closer and closer to the company party.

The press of her finger hitting the final punch upon her time card for the week is oddly satisfying, and so as she follows behind others to one of their many large meeting spaces she can’t help but feel like all that anxiety had been for nothing. Scared? What’s there to be scared of?

Mingling is easy. She gets along with most of her coworkers and thankfully she’s yet to run into her boss let alone her son. The foods decent, and the drinks refreshing. She’d never drink heavily in front of her coworkers so she goes for the simple things like hard cider and sipping on water.

Just as she’s locked in a conversation with a boy of obsidian hair and one of the biggest smiles she’s ever seen fingers have made their way upon her shoulder. The turn of her head comes and there’s no surprise to be had when it’s her boss.

Smiling is easy especially with a woman like Mikoto before you. She brightened a room, and the smile she’s always got upon her own lips is contagious.

“Ah, Sakura-san I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” there’s the smallest of laughs and then a step back from her as she seeks to introduce someone behind her—no doubt the son.

“Sorry I hadn’t seen you with there being so many of us.” the smile she has is genuine and then as her eyes move see this highly praised son does it start to slip from her lips.

One moment, and then two. They’re just starting at each other—and for the love of god tell her she’s just seeing things. Tell her that this man before her isn’t the same man from months ago. Tell her that she’s lost her mind and that she’s obviously seeing things.

Those lips of his are tilting upon the corners and then there's the hooding of his eyes as they trail from her feet up to her eyes once again. He’s analyzing her as much as she is him—perhaps he doesn’t remember her. Maybe, just maybe, she’s the only one recognizing the situation at hand.

If you had told her, her one night stand would have been with her bosses son she would of laughed in your face.

Equally though if you had told her she’d been requesting dick pics from her bosses soon she would told you that only happened in those romance novels she had loved in college.

The swallow she makes is thick. Uncomfortable doesn’t even begin to describe this feeling in her chest.

“Sakura-san, are you okay?” there’s concern etched within the question.

Flickering her eyes from one pair of obsidian to the other and she’s plastering the fakest of customer service smiles upon her face. Working at a Starbucks part-time had served her well for moments like this.

“I’m perfectly fine.” she gives a nod of her head and then sets her eyes back upon this man she had literally just the night before masturbated to.

Those lips are shifting into the truest of smirks. He’s not letting it just rest upon the corners. His shoes are firm with each step and then with an ease and grace she can’t remember him having outside of the rough and exciting moments in bed so many months ago does he grab her hand and bring it up to his lips.

Her cheeks are warm and she wants to bury herself right here and right now. Anywhere but here would be an absolute blessing—but that’s not an option because god literally seems to be enjoying himself with this little stunt.

“My mother’s told me so much about you, Haruno Sakura-san.” he hasn’t let go of her hand, and he’s not released her eyes either.

There’s a hesitation and then the forceful removal of her eyes as her fingers grip upon her pencil skirt. If the earth would please just open up right here, and right now that would be amazing.  She’s not asking for a lot. Just a simple miracle in which she’s swallowed whole—and not exactly like she had been months ago by this man staring so smitten down at her.

“Likewise, Uchiha Sasuke-san.”

[tumblunni]

Misc thoughts of rambling development for my new yokai watch ocs family of hugs and sadness (blythe the Dimmy and amber the Gorgeous Ambassador)

* Amber was totally still Gorgeous Ambassador at heart even back when he was human. I feel like he probably dressed very plain and was very self concious for a long time, as well as also being poor as dirt so it wasnt really easy to be super fashion time. Perhaps the only way he was really able to be remotely flambouyant or pretty was just having a long ponytail that he was very proud of. It would have been easier to maintain a shorter hairstyle when you're struggling to even find somethibg to eat each day let alone a bath, but it just helped him hold on to a tiny bit of confidence. Even when he reincarnated as Gorgeous Ambassador he was still unconfident for a long time and it took all these centuries to fully embrace The Power Of Gorgeous. He was probably really shocked when he got his medal registered and heard his new yokai name, like uhh excuse me "must beautiful man who spreads beauty through the world with his smile" are you sure there hasnt been a mixup??? And nowadays he's become so happy with himself that he maybe dresses a little bit gaudy sometimes, but if you saw how he used to feel then you'd absolutely be cheering for him!

* he was probably worried that Blythe wouldn't recognise him when he finally managed to reunite with them, but i think the lil shadow ghost instantly knew it was their brother and ran straight into the biggest hug ever. "Im worried they'll think im all cringe and gaudy" NO UR LIL SIB IS IN AWE OF YOUR FASHION POWER AND HAPPY FOR YOUR CONFIDENCE

* I also think Amber would absolutely be proud of how much confidence Blythe has gained through travelling with the protagonist and co. Like "aaa the last time i saw you you were so tiny and shy!" "Yes, now i'm tall and shy!" "NUUUU STOP PUTTING YOURSELF DOWN"

* basically they are absolutely Shyness Fam, and Amber just approaches his anxieties differently with over-the-top fake boasting about his greatness instead of being honest about how bad he feels. So thats why itd be so heartwarming to see him genuinely making progress and genuinely seeing good parts of himself. ALL THANKS TO THE INTERNATIONAL GORGEOUSNESS ASSOCIATION OF THE AFTERLIFE, YES *cheesy makeover ads fly by in the background*

* Dimmy's fave food is rice balls not just cos ninja monster = rice balls, but cos for Blythe specifically it brings back happy memories of backstory ninja Amber in ye olden days packing lunches of love for his tiny friend. He was always broke in between finding bountys to hunt, so he was never able to cook anything too fancy, but those simple meals became associated with childhood in Blythe's heart. All the times this big strong human swordsman would have a moment of gentleness and offer his last bit of food to a useless little yokai like them. ("No!! You're a valued part of the team!! And growing children need this more than i do!! Besides, i'm so tough i don't need to eat." *stands up for a minute and blacks out*)

* Since this backstory took place before thee yokai watch was invented, you cant technically say Amber was Blythe's previous watchholder but like.. He totally was? Same formula of being a human you partner with and then go around fighting/befriending other yokai. I like to think that maybe before yokai medals became the latest trend and they set up the whole official regulated medal registration process, yokai would still give their human friends some sort of token of their friendship but it was just less organised. Like imbuing their soul energy into all sorts of shit like This Leaf I Found or One Shoe. Which could be used in the same way to summon them but obv was less conveinient, haha! I'm thinking maybe Blythe's bond object was just a neat rock, cos they were so young and didnt really own anything else to gift to this human. Like all they had was the coal from the hearth in the house they used to haunt, but thatd be too crumbly so they dug through to find the sturdiest and prettiest rock and Amber was like straigjt up crying from how touched this whole thing made him. I WILL TREASURE THIS PEBBLE MY TINY MONSTER CHILD...

* oh but just to rub salt in the wound i think he couldnt find it again when he woke up floating over his own burned corpse in the wreckage of his final fateful battle. There uhh..wasnt much of himself left, let alone anything he was holding. Itd kinda have to be that way cos if it worked like a yokai medal itd mean Amber could have instantly reunited with his friend and cut out all of these years of sad backstory, alas

* ok but imagine the cute and sweet emotionalness of then being able to swap medals when they see each other again, and have an actual magical guarantee of never losing their family ever again.

* I feel like Amber only initially agreed to join the Gorgeous Association because he wanted to get a job in the yokai world and save up to buy a decent house and decent level of income so that there would be a hapoy home waiting for his child whenever he finally found them. He didnt really believe that he had the potential to be a fashion icon, he just went along with it as an employment opportunity in his weird new ghost life. But OH NO, accidental self confidence!! (We are all very proud of him)

* oh and the Gorgeous Association doesnt work 100% identical to the anime version, i just like the anime's general concept. I feel like Gorgeous Ambassador is indeed a yokai species and not just a title, its less 'you were chosen by random lottery' and more 'you were chosen by destiny'...? Shy people who have potential to be fashion icons just tend to end up becoming the shy-people-with-potential-to-become-fashion-icons yokai, aka this. And the Gorgeous Association takes responsibility for finding all new Gorgeouses and training them to use their new powers instead of just staying in their shyness. Its more of a self help club? Oh and also the membership is full of other types of fashion yokai too, its not just Gorgeous Ambassadors. Just its only Gorgeous Ambassadors that get visited by the president as soon as they die and given a special invitation to join. So basically interpreting Gorgeous Ambassador as more 'this yokai is named that cos its powers are about encouraging people to be more confident aka introducing them to the world of fashion'. And less the idea that all Gorgeous Ambassadors used to be a different type of yokai and you can only become one by being picked by the club lottery. And also that its just a costume with no actual powers?? That was funny in the anime but i prefer if they actually could inspirit people and make them more confident and stuff.

* I FEEL LIKE IM EXPLAINING THIS BADLY, SORRY! Ok so uhh like yknow some clubs are all exclusive entry "you are not this thing til you join"? Like you cant be a country club member til you join the country club, and the sense of comeraderie there is just all being rich enough to pay for membership rather than having anything in common. But then there's stuff like lgbt groups or mental health support groups where youre all already the same thing and thats WHY you join the club. Anime version had Gorgeous Association be a country club and Gorgeous Ambassador be just a membership name rather than a real yokai form. Which, again, was really funny but i feel like it only works in a more gag focused series like the anime. Here i'm interpreting it that you can just be born in the species Gorgeous Ambassador, same as any other yokai like jibanyan or whatever, and it actually does have its own special powers and stuff. And its just that the Gorgeous Association sends out invites to any newborn yokai that have fashion related powers. So not all Gorgeous Ambassadors actually join the Gorgeous Association. Oh and Kageusuo is the actual yokai species name for those unaffiliated ones. The anime seemed to say that kageusuo was an unrelated new yokai that isnt in the games, that was just invented to have a form that Gorgeous Ambassador had before he became Gorgeous Ambassador. But i have Other Ideas

* i'll make it a new bullet point cos im getting all disorganized now aaaa

* ok so Kageusuo (or my fanmade eng dub name Shamshade) is Gorgeous Ambassador. Same thing. Same species. Kageusuo is a yokai personifying the idea of a fashionable beautiful person who never reached their potential in life due to social anxiety/bullying. Like an 'ugly duckling' story. Their default form is this shadowy looking depressed dude because their power is that they drain shadows from people, vampire style. This makes you 'less overshadowed", so you become more confident and people notice your unique style! But kageusuo cant use its powers on itself, so a lot of them stay in this shy form forever and just continue repeating the same overshadowed life they have as a human. The fabulous form that Gorgeous Ambassador has in the games is just simply the same yokai dressing differently- a kageusuo that managed to conquer its anxieties from its past life and take steps to embrace its true self! But theyre not actually any different in terms of powers, theyre still shadow vampires and their power to make people fabulous is just them eating your shadow. It was something they could already do before they became fabulous themself, now theyre just confident enough to match their powers, yknow? And also unrelatedly there's a club called Gorgeous Association that this particular kageusuo joined, which personally helped him in his journey of self confidence so he goes by the nickname Gorgeous Ambassador to advertise it. (Which is even more nicknamed into Amber cos he thinks it sounds cute)

* WHY ARE MY HEADCANONS SO OVERCOMPLICATED AAAaa

* anyway just imagine a vampire movie but its a supermodel lurching out of the shadows groaning "I VANT TO SUCK YOUR ANXIETY" and then when he bites you you become more confident. This is a Good Concept so i will somehow find a way to use it, dammit!! *b movie music* "OH NO THE MONSTER GOT TERRY" *terry suddenly wearing applebottom jeans*

* also imagine all of that but also the dude is a weird samurai being all "wow the wonders of the future" about thos applebottom jeans

* why do all my headcanons start as angst and end up as nonsense like this

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

Hey, I saw you were doing headcanon stuff! So, I have this like burgeoning headcanon that Josh x Donna's first daughter is wlw. I don't know if you build off of other people's headcanons, but this one has been with me for a long time, and you are such a talented writer and storyteller in general that I thought maybe you'd be interested in taking a crack out of this very specific headcanon?!? I've just been projecting a lot of brainpower towards it and I want to talk to someone else about it!

Okay, so first, all my future headcanons for TWW spring from this original post that’s gotten around a bit. I’ve written a tiny bit of kidfic using them as well so I decided to connect yours to mine because tbh I love this idea and heck yeah, at least one of their daughters should be queer :D that’s just way more fun than if they’re both straight.

So, given what I’d already sorted out for the future, here are my thoughts. There are oh so many ideas behind the cut because apparently I can’t sleep but I can create a bunch of people out of thin air.

Their eldest daughter, Brianna Joan, started insisting everyone call her ‘Jo’ when she was five. They were both surprised by her stubbornness on the matter, but Josh was secretly pleased since her middle name was a tribute to his sister. Donna assumed it was a phase she would grow out of, like a lot of kids when they’re young and establishing their independence. She didn’t–and Jo later believed it was the first hint that she was never meant to be the girly daughter they might have expected.

Charlotte inherited her mother’s grace under pressure, along with her dancer’s form and creative flexibility. While Jo had Donna’s sass and sense of humor, she shared her dad’s brown hair and eyes, constant need to be in motion, and impulsive streak. Josh liked to say Jo got his athletic prowess, too, but Donna always countered with ‘your what now?’ and made the girls laugh. Jo surpassed him in sports talent by junior high, thanks in no small part to coaching by Charlie’s not-so-little-anymore sister Deena.

Junior high and high school were rough, especially girl’s softball and basketball. The rumors and slurs about which girls were probably gay because they were a little too good on the court or the mound bothered her, especially when she got sick of her unruly hair and cut it off at fourteen and the kids started aiming them at her…but it was hard to do the right thing and stand up to them when she was starting to wonder if maybe they were right.

The first crush she developed on an older, female student that she actually admitted to herself was a crush happened a year later, when she was trying to survive her entrance into high school. She came out to her best friend at sixteen and felt bad that she didn’t tell her parents first, but her dad was still working with the White House occasionally during his “retirement,” and her mom was starting her campaign for Congress, and the last thing Jo wanted to do was make that harder.

It wasn’t like she thought they’d be upset, or disappointed in her, exactly. But a tiny part of her did have doubts, after a couple of her friends had come out to their liberal parents and hit a cruel wall of family double-standards. Surely Josh Lyman and Donna Moss, champions of progressive causes, wouldn’t be that way…she hoped.

Just to be safe, Jo told them the week after her mom won her Congressional campaign, when it would cause the least trouble if they did freak out. Donna wasn’t surprised, not even a little, and only shared her worries at night with Josh. She knew how hard it was to be a woman in the world, and it could only be more painful for their eldest facing additional discrimination on top of that. “We just have to love her even harder,” Donna whispered, “and hope it’ll be enough.”

Unlike his wife, Josh was–as always–oblivious. Jo coming out was big surprise, but one he was happy about. She trusted them enough to tell them, and include them in her confusing teenage life. Surely that meant they were on the right track. “And hey,” he offered up in the initial shock of her disclosure, “I can’t exactly blame her. Women…are great. I’m a big fan. Of them.”

Just like he did with all the girl’s activities over the years, from dance to soccer, Josh threw himself into being a parental ally until he annoyed Jo with his enthusiasm. PFLAG, marches, fundraisers, sponsoring local clubs…"which one of us is gay again?” she would mutter to her sister with an eyeroll sometimes, out of earshot of the DC dad with the rainbow t-shirt passing out mini flags.

She was grateful though, especially after she survived college, and law school, and volunteered at a nonprofit that exposed her to so many kids whose parents didn’t care if they lived or died, simply because of who they turned out to be. Josh started getting handmade cards for his birthday and Father’s Day every year, filled with Jo’s illegible handwriting–that, he knew, she definitely didn’t get from him–telling him how much she loved and appreciated him. He put them on the fridge next to the sketches her little sister sent, like they were both still in grade school. Donna teased him about that, but whenever their friends visited she was the first one to casually point them out.

In the family, Charlotte was the only one that ever gave Jo any grief about her sexuality. It was mostly sibling sniping, because Charlotte was quieter than her sister but even more competitive, and she was never quite able to catch up with the three year gap between them. Still, it made Jo uncomfortable in her late teens because she and her baby sister were always so close growing up, and she couldn’t tell if the snark was coming from someplace deeper. When Charlie was fifteen, she got a week’s suspension for breaking a boy’s nose after he called her valedictorian sister a slur she refused to repeat to anyone. Jo worried less after that, and the sarcastic comments never happened again.

Toby’s son Huck came out as bisexual in college, and Jo joined his twin sister in being his closest support system while he braced for his parents’ reactions. There was a lot of hugging, and some knowing looks between Toby and Josh when the kids weren’t paying attention, and Huck had to pay Jo twenty bucks because she promised it would go over fine and he was certain it would be a disaster. He never learned to love the Yankees but he shared his father’s temperament from an early age. He and Charlie dated briefly in their twenties, causing a minor scandal to ripple through the connected families.

CJ’s daughter Nora, who was like a distant cousin Jo never got to visit enough in sunny California, only allowed the family to use her full name. She got a lot of weird looks when strangers overheard, or friends found out how old-fashioned it was, but Jo liked to call her by it anyway when they chatted. She never got to meet her dad’s mentor, and she thought based on the stories she’d heard that he would be embarrassed but proud to learn that Claudia Jean named her firstborn Leonora after she left the White House.

Nora was the one who introduced Jo to her future wife, an architect based out of Sacramento with an independent streak and temper that secretly reminded Josh of one of his exes. Unlike him and Amy, Jo and her fiance were a happy fit, sharing similar political beliefs but no professional rivalry. They spent as much time at home swapping stories and advice about their demanding careers as they did on community activism. Jo mellowed out a little after they got married–”she’s so much like you,” Donna told Josh with a smile–and they moved five times in three years before buying a house and starting their attempts to have a family.

That was the first time Jo ever really surprised her mom, who cried when she found out they were expecting. “I thought…you never talked about wanting kids,” Donna said carefully, and Jo just grinned that bright grin that was so much like her father’s. “I needed some time,” she told her mom, “to figure out what I wanted. But I think that if I manage to be half as good at it as you were, I’ll be an amazing mom.”

Josh and Donna bantered anxiously in the waiting room while each of their eldest daughter’s three kids came into the world. Two she gave birth to, and one she didn’t. They spoiled them all the same.

And when Charlotte brought the Lyman-Moss legacy back to the White House, Jo’s youngest son got to hunt Easter Eggs on the lawn. He stood next to his aunt during the photo op, just one of a dozen kids surrounding the first female President of the United States.

[faierius]

Good Enough (Chapter Eleven)

               “What do you mean there’s someone on the balcony?” Prompto squeaked in a whisper.

               Leaving a quick kiss on Prompto’s forehead, Ignis got up, pulling the loose sheet off the bed as he did. Tying the fabric around his waist, he put his hand behind his back and summoned one of his daggers.

               Watching Ignis cross the room toward the open balcony doors, Prompto got up and found his sweatpants. Slipping them on, he called on his own weapon. Taking a deep breath, he pushed back the initial panic he always felt before a confrontation and stepped up to defend Ignis.

               “This is a private show, I’m afraid. No spectators,” Ignis told the intruder as he stepped onto the balcony and raised his weapon. He moved with the grace and poise of a fencer.

               “Well this is awkward,” sighed a familiar voice.

               Prompto frowned, joining Ignis in the small outdoor space. His eyes locked immediately on the woman. “Izzy?” he gaped.

               Ignis’ eyes narrowed dangerously, his knuckles white around the handle of his blade. “This is the woman who tried to seduce you?” he growled.

               Sighing, the woman spread her hands wide. “Guilty. Though even if I hadn’t been asked to, I would still have tried to get in his pants. He’s cute.”

               “What are you doing here, Izzy?” Prompto asked, eyes flicking toward Ignis. There was a hard set to his jaw and heat in his eyes.

               She shrugged, eyes on the weapons trained on her. “Well, I was enjoying a beautiful view of the moon until the clouds came out, but now I’m being interrogated at knife and gunpoint,” she answered calmly.

               Prompto’s eyes briefly flicked skyward and he noted there were no clouds in the sky. Heat rose in his cheeks and he grit his teeth.

               “You have no business with Prompto,” Ignis hissed, taking a step closer to the woman. “What is your purpose here?”

               Izzy raised her hands, eyes wide. “Hey, no need for violence, okay?”

               Ignis scoffed. “Did you have the same stance when he was beaten?”

               “I didn’t want them to do that. I was just told we were going to kidnap him and hold him,” explained Izzy, brow twitching.

               “For what purpose?” Ignis growled. He knew the reason, but he wanted to hear it from the source.

               Izzy rolled her eyes. “Why do you think you kidnap people, Four Eyes? Ransom money.”

               “It wasn’t smart to come here,” Prompto told the woman, taking a small step forward.

               “None of Lyla’s plan was smart! But we’re desperate to leave before the Empire wipes out the rest of Lucis! She thought the Prince would be broken after losing everything. An easy target to milk money from, considering the state of things,” she explained, tired eyes moving from Ignis to Prompto, and back.

               “Noct is stronger than you think,” sighed Prompto, dismissing his weapon. He trusted Ignis to keep an eye on her. “How did you even get up here?”

               Ignis quirked a brow at the off-topic question.

               “Combination street rat and Exineris employee. I know the ins and outs of the city, and I’m good at scaling rooftops,” she answered with a shrug.

               Ignis sighed. Prompto recognized it as the sound he made when he had an oncoming headache. “What is your purpose here? I shan’t ask you again.”

               Izzy regarded Ignis with a raised brow. “You’re a naked man in a bedsheet. Why should I answer anything you ask?”

               “Bedsheet or no, I am still quite capable of delivering bodily harm. Answering my question is the difference between spending a week in a Hunter holding cell, or simply informing Holly of your behavior,” he replied, his proud stance remaining solid. His extended arm never even quivered as he kept the blade pointed at Izzy.

               “Neither of those things are a great incentive, pal.”

               “Izzy!” Prompto narrowed his eyes. “If he doesn’t cut you with that thing, I might! Why are you here?”

               The woman crossed her arms. “Partly to see if I could steal anything worth hawking. But mostly to buy Lyla some time,” she finally admitted.

               “To do what?” Prompto now asked, glancing at Ignis.

               “To have a little chat with our dear Prince Noctis.”

               With a quiet grumble, Ignis grabbed Prompto’s hand and pressed the handle of his dagger to the blond’s palm. “Find something to restrain her with while I make a phone call. And find some pants.”

               “Prompto, I’m sorry,” Izzy said as soon as Ignis was out of earshot. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this.”

               Scowling, he grabbed her arm and directed her into the suite. Ignis had disappeared into the bathroom. “Yeah, I don’t make a habit of believing people who drug me, then have me beat up,” he retorted.

               “Do…do people do that often?”

               “What? No! Just sit down and shut up.” He gave her a light shove, forcing her to sit in one of the armchairs.

               Izzy chuckled, falling into the chair. “Shoe’s kinda on the other foot now, hey? Though I don’t really mind being tied up. Especially by cute boys. Speaking of, your friend looks like he might be into tying up cute little blond boys, too.”

               “Shut up!” Prompto barked, surprising himself. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could listen to her talk about Ignis. He didn’t like her implications or the way she looked at him.

               “You really aren’t what I expected. I was told you were weak and helpless, only tagging along because you’re friends with the Prince. I definitely never expected you to fight back. I have to admit, I was impressed seeing the heat in your eyes when you tackled Joe. Like a caged animal sensing freedom. That kick was something else.”

               “Never underestimate a trained soldier of the Crownsguard,” Ignis stated flatly, exiting the bathroom, dressed once again. “Prompto, why haven’t you tied her up yet?”

               “With what? My shoelaces?”

               Sighing through his nose, Ignis closed the space between himself and Prompto. His long fingers went to Prompto’s waist, making the blond squeak and step back out of his reach.

               “What’re you doing?”

               Expression caught between annoyance and amusement, Ignis held out his hand. “Your drawstring, please.”

               Prompto’s eyes dropped to the braided cord hanging from the waistband of his pants in a floppy bow. “Oh. Right.” Untying the knot, he pulled the drawstring from his pants and handed it over.

               “Well that was a fun little exchange,” Izzy commented as Ignis bound her wrists.

               “I would suggest you not speak any further. You are trying my patience, and I am not entirely sure what I may do when they run out,” Ignis growled at her before standing up straight and retrieving his dagger from Prompto.

               Izzy took the dark glint in the man’s eye seriously and kept her mouth shut. Slouching in the chair, she sighed and twisted her hands as best she could in her make-shift restraint.

               “Did you call Noct?” Prompto asked, picking Ignis’ glasses off the nightstand.

               “There was no answer. Nor from Gladio,” he replied, sliding his glasses on with his free hand.

               “Crap. What’re we gonna do?”

               Ignis turned his attention back to Izzy. “Find out where they’re meeting, and hopefully intervene before anyone gets hurt.”

 ***

                “What the hell? You know her?” Noctis demanded, hands clenched at his sides.

               “Oh, Gladdy and I go way back,” she replied, quirking a brow at the big guy.

               Gladio stepped forward, snarling as his greatsword appeared in his outstretched hand. “You don’t get to call me that.”

               Putting her hands up, the woman shrugged. “My bad. That cute little nickname is reserved for little Iris and, what was it you used to call him? Prince Charmless.”

               “What the hell are you even doing out here, Lyla?” Gladio growled, putting himself between her and Noctis.

               “Right now? Trying to fund three tickets to Altissia.”

               “Don’t know if you listen to the news or not,” Noctis interjected, “but since the attack on Insomnia, the ports are closed. Why bother?”

               “I’m resourceful. Just ask Gladdy.” Crossing her arms, she gave the man a slow blink.

               “Yeah, if it’s resourceful to use a firebomb in the middle of a training exercise and nearly kill half our squad,” he grumbled.

               “What’s the point of training if you can’t hone all of your skills?” she asked him.

               “That’s exactly why you didn’t make Glaive! You never listened, Lyla. And it took the maiming of a damn good Crownsguard cadet for you to be kicked out entirely. You were lucky to make it as far as you did with your attitude.”

               “My attitude? It had nothing to do with it! They were just afraid of my potential,” she snarled back.

               Gladio scoffed. “That’s what you think?”

               Noctis stepped forward, raising a hand. “Wait. You two trained together? And you applied for the Kingsglaive?”

               “Applied, and completely ignored! Because I wasn’t good enough for King Regis! Because there’s only room for one Hero!” she spat, turning on Noctis. “I’m glad I got out of Insomnia when I did. So I could watch with glee as the Empire attacked the Citadel. Seeing the death announcement for the last of the Lucis Caelum line, King Regis, and his son, Prince Noctis, brought a smile of utter delight to my face. Because you ruined my life!”

               Taken by surprise, Noctis barely managed to warp out of the woman’s way when she lunged at him. Gladio easily intercepted, quickly swapping his sword for his shield. The tank of a woman, only a few inches shorter than Gladio, but comparably burly, barrelled into the shield. Snarling like a wild beast, she grabbed the defensive weapon and twisted it, wrenching Gladio’s arm.

               With a grunt, he turned, dismissing his shield to catch her off-guard like she had done with him. “You’ve gotten a lot stronger,” he rumbled, sidestepping her as she tripped.

               “Had no choice,” she snarled back. Regaining her balance, she swung at Gladio, only to have him dodge again.

               Noctis stood off to the side, ignored, unsure what to do. He couldn’t match them in brute strength, and taking a sword at an unarmed person wasn’t exactly fair play. There had to be something he could do. Sitting on the sidelines was not for him.

               Lyla grunted, not quite fast enough to avoid Gladio’s fist as it clipped her jaw. She swung back, landing a solid blow to his ribs.

               Noctis patted his pockets and found a stay vial of some sort. He pulled the item from his pocket and turned it over in his hand. A smirk tugged at his lips as Gladio and Lyla exchanged punches a few feet away. The half-full ice flask he’d been carrying around didn’t seem quite so useless anymore.

[askdawnandvern]

A Lamb Among Wolves

This was another chapter I ended up splitting into two separate parts due to length. And I've got news for you, there's more down the pipe. Act two is very rapidly becoming the largest act in the story, and the continued input by fans and Patreon backers keeps it growing and growing. My initial plan was to wrap this story up by Christmas, but even if I manage to get back to weekly chapters, I still don't think it will be done till 2018. I swear if I had the time I'd be trying to write two stories at once, but for now I'm relying on my commissioned art and so one to help keep me writing and living...lol.  As for this chapter it ended up finishing up surprisingly well despite having to split it. It made for swapping Dawns perspective to Verns flow super nicely without feeling like the whole conversation was split up abruptly. I hope you guys feel the same way when reading it, and are looking forward to the next chapter.

Please consider becoming a Patreon, get exclusive sneak peeks, chatting access, polls and art suggestions, and etc. Take a look! https://www.patreon.com/wastedtimeee -WT

Chapter Twenty Two: The Best Laid Plans

           Dawn let out a tired yawn as she leaned against Audrey's beat up old truck. Vernon had been gone for several minutes, leaving Dawn little to keep herself occupied other than her own thoughts. It was something she really didn't mind. Although she was certain the wolf was now driving himself crazy trying to find whatever he could add to the picnic supplies in order to make up for the days events. It was something Dawn would consider wholly unnecessary, the picnic itself was more than enough to make her happy. But she knew there would be no convincing her Puppy Love otherwise. The wolf had a stubborn heart, and when she was concerned, Vernon wouldn't rest until he had her smiling again. Still, the benefit of being alone with her thoughts gave her more time to mull over how best to approach the now pressing meeting she needed to have with Dorian without Vernon asking what she was thinking about.

           Out of all the Hunters, the last one she needed to have any inkling that she intended to speak with Dorian privately would be Vernon. The wolf was too invested in his love for her to even consider letting her face Dorian alone. But the more she thought over the confrontation, the more she realized just how unequipped she was to face him. Dawn barely knew anything about Dorian other than he was a sheriff, that he used to be considerably more easy going, and he apparently hated her. Whether that had to do with her being mated to his son, her criminal history or both she couldn't say. But regardless the older wolf clearly had it out for her. And with that bare minimum of knowledge she was sure to push the wolf's buttons in one way or another simply by accident. If Dawn had to face the older wolf, she wanted their discussion to remain as friendly and amicable as possible for as long as it could. She needed to keep a tight hold on her own emotions and remain stoic in the face of whatever Dorian might say. And it wasn't going to be an easy feat without any sort of insight into the wolf proper.

           Dawn heard a cacophony of thuds nearby, causing the ewe to snap to attention. Dawn quickly pushed herself away from the truck, craning her head up to search for what had caused the sudden noise.

"Ha, I told you! I knew you couldn't carry ten cases at once! I win the bet!" Dawn turned to the source of the voice, spying the large supply van parked outside the nearby barn. That familiar chirpy voice could only have come from Qali, and so Dawn wasn't surprised to see the diminutive fox hopping in place near the back end of the truck. Standing right next to her was a very annoyed looking Vanna. The tigress had a paw clasped against her head as she stared down a pile of spilled pie crates which had clearly been the source of the noise.

"Vanna!" Dawn thought to herself as she watched tigress began to scoop some of the fallen boxes back into her large arms. Vanna would be the perfect mammal to ask about how to carry herself when dealing with Dorian. Aside from her willingness to so easily accept Dawn as her sister, the tigress worked with the older wolf. Her and Zach were around the farm more than any of the Hunter siblings, and Vanna knew about how Dorian behaved before whatever changed him. If any mammal could offer the best advice as to confronting Dorian, as well as keep it a secret, it would be the towering tigress. Dawn nodded to herself to affirm her plan before she began a brisk walk toward the pair.

"You owe me twenty Zbucks!" Qali added as Vanna continued to stack cases in her arms.

"Ugh, I'm probably already going to have to pay that much for the pies I just ruined." Vanna lamented.

"Pfft, sure." Qali said, cocking an eyebrow as she crossed her arms. "Like Auddy ever made a single one of us pay for pies before. You're not getting out of this one!"

Vanna chuckled. "To be fair, I almost had them."

"Next time Kitten." Zach said as he clambered out of the back of the van, clutching four cases of his own as he approached the tigress. The wolf gave her a soft pat on the arm as he passed, eliciting a sigh from Vanna. Zach let out a soft chuckle before adjusting his cases slightly and making his way into the barn.

"Vanna!" Dawn signaled the tigress with a wave. Both Qali and Vanna turned their attention toward the ewe as she approached, with Vanna placing the cases she was holding back on the edge of the van before facing Dawn.

"Hey Fluffball! You all right?" Qali chirped, earning a raised eyebrow from Vanna. Qali simply shrugged at the confused tigress.

"What? I'm still running through nickname ideas." Qali replied.

"I-I'm fine, I'm fine." Dawn attempted to reassure the arctic fox as she arrived.

"Good to hear." Vanna replied, scratching the back of her head awkwardly. "I was worried you and Vernon would be feeling pretty bad after...well..." Vanna rolled her eyes, looking away from the lamb as she winced. "With what happened at the fair."

Dawn grimaced, looking down at her feet as she awkwardly kicked at the soft dirt below.

"W-well, I mean..." Dawn stuttered. "I'd be lying if I said it didn't get to either of us." The ewe sighed as she looked back up at the tigress with sorrowful eyes. "Although I'm probably more worried about putting the rest of you in danger be-"

"Aw, you didn't put us out any Dawn." That voice came from inside the moving van, and Dawn turned to find Trenton making his way out of the back with one of the large tubs of corn. The white wolf hopped off the edge of the truck, causing it to bob slightly in time with his jump. Trenton adjusted his grip on the faded blue bucket before approaching  the rest of the mammals. The wolf smiled widely at Dawn.

"We stick up for our family, and we're proud to do it." The wolf added.

"B-but what about your Mother's stand?" Dawn replied, biting her hoof.

Trenton shook his head at the very notion. "Ah, it'll all get worked out, always does." Trenton chuckled softly. "Can't keep a Hunter down."

Dawn tried to smile, to pretend as though the wolf's words had eased her fears, but the weak facsimile she produced clearly wasn't convincing enough as the wolf continued.

"And Ada will be fine, trust me." Trenton added. "Throwing a punch ain't the worst crime in the world. And with Xavi's help I doubt she'll see any hard time."

Dawn let out a long sigh as she gave the wolf a meek nod. She had already heard as much from the other Hunter Brothers, and whether she chose to believe their confident claims or not, it was clear that was all she was going to hear from them.

"Is Vernon holding up okay?" Vanna asked.

Dawn glanced back at the Hunter Ranch over her shoulder, checking to see if the wolf was still inside. With no sign of her Sheepdog, and the doubtless large pile of supplies he'd be carrying, the ewe turned back to the conversation.

"H...He's clearly upset." Dawn muttered. "B-but he promised me he would talk about it while we have our picnic."

"Good." Trenton said, re-adjusting the tub he was carrying. "Don't let him try to worm out of it either, Puppy ain't exactly good with handlin' bad emotions. Doesn't like to burden those he loves with 'em. So he ends up keeping them buried inside till he bursts."

Dawn gave the wolf a sharp and decisive nod. "I won't, I swear."

Trenton smiled, giving the ewe a nod of approval. "I can't see you having too much trouble with that, that Pup would do anything for you."

"Y-you think so?" Dawn replied timidly, twisting a foot in the dirt.

"Vernon told me enough this morning on the ride out. Puppy's got it for ya bad." The wolf held up a paw while balancing the corn bin on his knee. "'Course I can't say anymore, I promised not to embarrass him too much." Trenton said with a chuckle.

Dawn felt a genuine smile creep it's way through the sadness on her surface. She knew her Puppy loved her, but hearing just how much from some other mammals lips, especially close family, made it all the more meaningful. It was just more proof of the wolf's overwhelming pride in being able to call the ewe his mate, and Dawn always found it touching despite the occasional trouble that came with being so open about it. Now it was only strengthening the ewe's resolve when it came to meeting with the head of the Hunter family.

"V-Vanna?" Dawn asked, not fully sure of how to approach the tigress about the plan she had been contemplating. "C-can I talk to you about something for a minute..." The ewe paused, twiddling her hooves nervously. "In private?"

Vanna arched an eyebrow, looking at Trenton and Qali for a moment before turning back to Dawn.

"Um...sure?" Vanna replied, clearly taken back by how oddly Dawn had asked the question.

"Hey! What about me?" Qali interjected, placing a paw on her hip.

"O-oh...well..." Dawn sputtered. "W-well I k-kind of wanted t-to keep it a s-secret."

Qali's ears drooped and she let out a soft whine.

"Oh c'mon! We're sisters! I promise to keep it a secret just as well as Vanna would! Puh-lease!?" The fox continued to whimper as she clasped her paws together pleadingly.

Dawn winced as the tiny fox's eyes seemed to grow as big as saucers. It was clear she knew how to use the weaponized 'puppy eyes' just as well as Vernon did. The ewe looked up to Vanna and Trent for help, flashing unsure eyes of her own at the pair.

"I can vouch for her." Trenton said. "My little Snowflake does a good job of keepin' a lid on private matters, at least as long as I've known her."

The ewe was hesitant to share her problem with more than one member of the family, but Dawn didn't want to snub her new sister despite how important her plan was. Dawn let out a reluctant sigh as she hung her head in defeat.

"O-Okay, you can come too Qali." Dawn muttered.

"YES!" The fox briefly bounced in place in excitement, her tail seeming to lag in the air with each hop before floating back down. "Don't worry, you can trust me! I won't say a thing, I swear!"

Dawn let out another sigh as she shook her head at the diminutive fox. Looking back Trenton's way she caught the wolf chuckling.

"Well I'll leave you to it then." Trent nodded, " Trust you don't need a third considering..."

"T-thank you Trenton." Dawn said, offering a meek smile to the wolf.

The wolf flashed a smile of his own before readjusting his grip on the heavy bucket of cobs. With a grunt, the wolf began to track toward the open mouth of the barn before making his way inside.

With Trenton now out of sight, the ewe motioned for the two other mammals to follow her as she made her way back toward Audrey's truck and out of ear shot of the two brothers who were still working. Qali was off like a rocket the moment Dawn had started moving, keeping in almost lockstep with the ewe. Vanna behaved more casually, taking slow and relaxed strides to cover the ground the two smaller mammals had strode before her.

Once Dawn reached the side of the car, she beckoned the girls to come in close around her. She wanted to keep her voice as low as possible while still being heard, just incase Vernon finally showed up before she had a chance to finish discussing the situation with the girls. While Qali simply leaned in, pointing an ear directly at the ewe, Vanna was forced to crouch, nearly kneeling on the ground in order to bring herself level with the ewe.

Now that Dawn had their attention she could feel a lump form in her throat. She was nervous of what they might think of her idea, but even more so of how they thought Dorian would respond. But she knew it was the only chance she had at making things right.

"I'm v-very concerned..." Dawn stammered quietly. "A-about Mr. Hunter.

Vanna let out a tired sigh. "Don't worry about Old 'Mam Hunter." Vanna replied almost reflexively, as if she had been anticipating this. "He's-"

"Wait." Dawn protested, holding her hooves out to stop the tigress. "It's not about me..." Dawn chewed at her hoof slightly. "W-well not completely."

Vanna and Qali eyed each other in confusion before turning their attention back to the ewe.

"Then what do you mean?" Vanna asked.

Dawn took a deep breath. She was ready to lay it all on the table, and she wanted to make sure she wasn't interrupted until she got it all out or else she might lose her nerve. With a heavy sigh, the ewe straightened her glasses and began.

"B-before Vernon and I came to visit Dorian was on edge." Dawn said. "You've told me so yourself Vanna, that he wasn't always like this."

Vanna gave the ewe a simple nod.

"And then Vernon and I show up and make it worse." Dawn continued. " I mean, incidents at home aside, we must have put a great deal of strain on the old wolf with what happened at the fair. If what you've told me is true it's not surprising the wolf acted the way he had."

"So?" Qali cut in. "What's it matter if ol' Dori's got a bug up his butt?"

"What matters is..." Dawn continued. "That me being here has hurt the family. That Vernon and I have driven a wedge between Dorian and the rest of you."

"He did that to himself Dawn." Vanna interjected. "Sure Dorian has been acting differently for months, but agreeing to kick you out of the fair was out of line."

Dawn shook her head briskly.

"It wouldn't have happened if we hadn't come to the fair. If we had chosen a different week, a different time. Something smaller and quieter. I'm sure Vernon and my relationship is a great deal to take in on top of having the entire family home for a busy holiday weekend. Maybe he would have handled it better if Vernon and I had approached this whole thing differently, eased the older wolf into it." Dawn sighed. "I should have challenged Vernon's plans a bit more than I did when it came to setting this up, then maybe we could have met Dorian under better circumstances."

"Dawn-" Vanna tried to speak, but the ewe held her hoof up once more.

"But that's all in the past." Dawn asserted, readjusting her glasses. "The only thing I can try to do now is fix this mess. To try to undo what we caused, and maybe get to the root of what's bothering Dorian, even if it turns out to just be me."

Vanna sighed, shaking her head in dismissal.

"So what are you gonna do?" Qali asked.

Dawn took a deep breath, shaking her upper body in an attempt to cast out her nervousness and steel herself.

"I need to talk to him." Dawn said. "Alone."

Vanna's eyes widened, clearly the tigress was in shock. The large tigress opened her mouth, only to close it again as she seemed at a loss for words. Qali however, certainly wasn't.

"Are you crazy!?" Qali yelped.

"Qali!" Vanna hissed, glaring at the tiny fox.

"What, it is crazy!" Qali asserted, placing her paws on her hips before throwing her glance at Dawn. " Whatever crawled up Dori's butt and died only got worse when you guys showed up. He's clearly got something against you!" Qali gestured a paw to Dawn. "And you want to go talk to him by yourself!?"

"While I'm not going to jump to extremes like my sister..." Vanna winced. "I will agree that I don't think that is such a good idea."

"I had a feeling you'd say something like that." Dawn said, shaking her head in disappointment. "But how else am I going to begin to get to the root of the problem if I don't try to talk it out?" Dawn spread her hooves as she gestured to the girls. "Even if it's just me that's the source of the problem, I'm never going to change his mind if I don't try to work through it with him."

"But you can't just go in there alone!" Qali pleaded. "You gotta let us back you up!"

Dawn shook her head in a decisive decline.

"I have to do it by myself." The ewe asserted. "If anyone comes with me it's just going to make Dorian more defensive, and more than likely lead to a shouting match. If I go alone I stand the best chance of keeping the conversation calm and collected. And that's the only chance I have at getting through to him."

"Dorian's a stubborn wolf." Vanna said, placing a paw to her head. "Once he's got himself set on something, it's hard to sway him to change his position."

"Yeah, I mean look at Vernon!" Qali piped in. "I mean how long did Papa Hunter keep on him about being a cop? I still don't think the Old Mams let it go! So what chance are you going to have at-"

"I need to try Qali." Dawn said. "For me, for Vernon, for this whole family. I owe it to all of you."

Vanna let out a groan as she placed her head in her paws. An uneasy silence hung over the group for a few moments before Vanna finally croaked out a reply.

"Fine..." Vanna grumbled. "But for the record, I think this is a terrible idea."

"You're going to just let her do it!?" Qali yelped.

"Dawn can do what she wants, she's an adult." Vanna replied. "Besides, what's the worst that could happen?"

Qali looked at the tigress in disbelief, her ears straight and stiff and mouth agape as she stared back at Vanna.

"He could!" Qali sputtered. "I mean he's! I!" The little fox shook her head briskly. "I don't know what! But it's going to suck!" Qali spat.

"He ain't gonna hurt her." Vanna replied bluntly.

"The worst that could happen would be that he chews me out." Dawn added. " It's not like I haven't heard that sort of talk from other mammals that hated me, and I'm prepared to endure it this time." Dawn sighed. "At least then I'll know the exact reason why he's acting the way he is."

"But we have to help somehow!" Qali spat. "We can't just let you do this all by yourself!"

Dawn cleared her throat, adjusting her frames slightly as she turned her attention to Vanna.

"W-well actually. It would help to get an idea of exactly what I'm getting myself into." Dawn scratched the back of her head awkwardly. " I don't know very much about the wolf, but considering his nature and job I can't imagine he's going to take it easy on me." Dawn sighed. "I need some advice on how to hold my own against him. Things I should avoid, and how he tends to act in a conversation or argument. I need to be able to withstand anything he can throw at me."

Vanna let out a sigh of her own before easing herself the rest of the way onto the ground. The tigress crossed her legs, resting one of her paws on her knees before gesturing to Dawn to do the same. The ewe was quick to obey, easing herself into a similar seated position before leaning in attentively toward the tigress. Qali continued to stand in place for a few moments, crooking her head in confusion before seeming to get the idea and sitting herself down. Unlike Vanna and Dawn however, the arctic fox simply kneeled, scooching closer to the others and leaning in intently.

"Well, first off..." Vanna said, clearing her throat. "It is important that you go in there one hundred percent sure of yourself. If you show any kind of weakness, Papa Hunter is going to pounce on it in an instant."

"A-any weakness?" Dawn stuttered.

The tigress nodded. "Dorian didn't get to the top position at the station for no reason. The mammal is an expert in law enforcement, and an extremely shrewd when it comes to interrogation." Vanna said coolly. " He can make any mammal feel guilty, which is part of the reason they ended up taking him off interrogation duty."

Dawn bit at her hoof nervously. "I-I don't know if I can be o-one hundred percent on a-anything." Dawn muttered. "Especially when I'm nervous."

"Yeah, that seems kinda impossible." Qali added.

Vanna raised a finger. "The important thing is that you have to believe you aren't guilty of anything going in there. Or at least appear you feel that way." The tigress crossed her arms. "You have to go into his office as if you are a bystander. A victim, not a suspect."

"B-but what if he brings u-"

"Change the subject, evade him." Vanna cut the ewe off. "Do not admit fault, and believe what you are saying. You need to keep the pressure on him, not let him put it on you." Vanna placed her paws on her knees. "Keep it related to your visit and the fair, don't let him dredge up your past. It's not relevant to the weekends events."

"O-okay." Dawn said, twiddling her hooves nervously.

It was then Vanna reached out, bringing her paw on Dawn's shoulder. The large tigress gave it a firm squeeze as she stared right into Dawn's eyes. Vanna's intense glare made Dawn shudder, it was the coldest look the tigress had given her since they had first met. There was nothing but a deadly serious in her gaze.

"You have to swear to me you can do that." Vanna said sternly. "I won't let you go in alone otherwise unless you swear to me, firmly and without hesitation that you can handle it."

Dawn was quick to swallow the hard lump that had formed in her throat, giving the tigress a brisk and decisive nod.

"Yes." Dawn said. "I can do it! I will do it!" The ewe continued to nod briskly until she felt Vanna release her grip on the ewe's shoulder.

"Papa Hunter says he can smell bullshit a mile away." Vanna said, her cold stare relaxing into something more comfortable.

"V-vernon said that too." Dawn replied. "He said they all had it supposedly."

Vanna nodded. "Good intuition, Papa Hunter is quick to say it runs in the family. But it's not unbeatable." Vanna said, placing her paws back on her knees. "If you believe what you say firmly enough, it should keep him from aggressively pursuing that topic." Vanna raised a paw. "If a shark can't sense blood in the water, they can't find their prey."

Dawn nodded briskly. It was certainly going to be hard, but at least now she had some semblance of a strategy when it came to what to expect from Dorian.

"And like Vanna said, you got to keep Papa Hunter on his toes!" Qali added. "You keep the ball in his court, keep him answering questions rather than asking his own!"

Vanna nodded. "You keep the pressure on him, don't let him latch on to something or he'll never let you get a word in edgewise. Once he's got his teeth in something, he's not going to let up."

"When Trenny first introduced us, I talked the Old Mam' under." Qali giggled. "I sent him running for his office because I just kept asking him all sorts of stuff."

"You do that to everyone." Vanna chuckled, rubbing the fox's hair with one of her massive paws. Qali tried to push back, swatting playfully at Vanna's paw. But the tigress didn't stop until the fox simply gave up.

"Mutton chops." Dawn muttered, placing a hoof over her mouth. "I-I wanted this to be an amicable conversation, b-but you make it sound like I s-should be ready for war."

Vanna let out a tired sigh. "Don't feel to badly Dawn, these days Papa Hunter seems to see most of us as the enemy when it comes to prolonged conversation." The tigress placed a paw to her temple. "Especially when any of us bring up how he's been acting."

"T-that's another thing I w-wanted to ask you about." Dawn said, tapping her hooves together gingerly. "Earlier today you said that D-Dorian wasn't always like this, that he used to be much softer only months ago." Dawn scratched her head. "Do you remember anything that could have...you know..." Dawn tapped her muzzle as she tried to find the right words. "Caused him to change like that?"

Vanna shook her head. "Not that I can think of." The tigress tapped a claw to her chin.

"Not a thing?" Dawn frowned. "Anything at all?" The ewe was looking for something to latch on to, any thread she could snare to glean some reasoning other than her arrival that may be vexing the older wolf.

Vanna continued to scratch her chin, rolling her eyes as she evidently searched her thoughts.

"W-well Yuri got suspended for a week from active duty around that time. He was pretty furious at him for that." Vanna grumbled. "Although to be honest that happens once a year at least."

Dawn considered the idea, but judging by Vanna's uncertainty, it seemed like it was a weak lead.

"Hmm..." Vanna's tone sounded as if she had something, and Dawn leaned forward in anticipation.

"I remember a few of our officers were discharged for some reason..." The tigress murmured. "I never heard why exactly, I think Dori handled it personally."

"So you don't know anything else about it?" Dawn persisted, hoping to jog Vanna's memory.

"It was some sort of corruption thing I think. A couple of the old timers on the force got the boot." Vanna shrugged. "But that's the most I heard about it. It was all handled very quietly. Very hush hush."

Dawn let out a sigh. It wasn't much to go on, but it was something at the least. Perhaps Dorian knew the mammals and was upset to find that they had been involved in corrupt activities. Or perhaps Dorian had been involved in some way. Dawn couldn't imagine a mammal like Dorian, one who seemed to regard the law so highly, and was so respected in the Meadowlands community to be capable of such a thing. Then again, the ewe knew plenty of mammals that looked at her as an upstanding, moral politician before betraying that trust and nearly destroying the city itself. Perhaps it was this reason that repelled Dorian from her so sharply,  because they had been more alike than the wolf wanted to admit.

"You don't think he was involved in that stuff do you Vanna?" Qali piped up, stealing the question right off of Dawns muzzle. The tigress arched an eyebrow before shaking the notion off.

"Pfft...'Ol Papa Hunter is as straight as an arrow." Vanna replied. "He'd never do anything illegal, he's a law dog through and through."

"I don't know, you did say he's been acting way different lately." Qali continued. "How can you be so sure?"

Vanna scoffed. "I've known the mammal for four plus years Snowball." The tigress chided. "He's been a grump since I signed on, but he's always followed the law to the letter. He wouldn't even cut corners on me or Zach." Vanna placed a paw to her head. "We've both have more than enough traffic tickets between us to vouch for that."

"You'd be surprised to find what 'good mammals' can be capable of." Dawn muttered sadly. It was something the ewe hated to suggest, but as living proof of it, it was simply a possibility that could not be denied.

"That's not Dorian." Vanna replied. "He just isn't like that."

"You said Auddy had mentioned Dorian was even less irritable before you came on the force right?" Dawn asked. "And that it only got worse recently?"

Vanna nodded, crossing her arms as the lamb asked her questions.

"I don't know...I mean...it could still be..." Dawn trailed off. "Maybe even something petty?"

"He wouldn't do it. I'd stake my badge on it." Vanna replied firmly.

"Well then...I suppose I'm just as much at a loss as when I started." Dawn sighed, placing a hoof to her forehead. For Vanna's sake she was willing to take the tigress' word on it for now, but it was a possibility that would still linger in her mind as something to explore. "But I still have to talk to him regardless. I have to try to get through to him."

"This stinks." Qali sighed. "There's got to be something else we can do to help!"

Dawn looked down at her lap uneasily. "W-well there is another thing I need you to do for me, but..." Dawn raised her head to look at the mammals again, now with a sharp frown. "But you aren't going to like it any better."

"You want us not to tell anyone?" Vanna evidently knew what the ewe was going to say next. Dawn gave a slow, affirmative nod.

"What!?" Qali raised her voice, to which Vanna immediately shushed her. The arctic fox grasped her muzzle, shutting it tightly before speaking again in a lower tone.

"This is the secret you wanted us to keep?" Qali huffed. "What if things go south? What if you need our help after all?"

Dawn sighed. "Then I'll ask for it. But otherwise I can't have any of the other Hunters know I'm going to do this." Dawn placed a hoof to her head. "Especially Audrey or Vernon."

"Because either one of them would probably fight Dorian if he gave you a hard time?" Once again, Vanna had hit the nail on the head. Dawn nodded.

"I'd rather not want to cause such a huge fight that Vernon stops speaking to him, or Audrey kicks him out, or worse." Dawn protested. "The last thing I want to do is break up a family over something so stupid."

"This isn't stupid." Qali muttered, crossing her arms. "It's wrong."

"Regardless of how you feel about this I need you both to swear to me you won't tell." Dawn clasped her hooves together, shaking them pleadingly. "Please, I need you to promise."

Vanna let out a long, exhausted sigh. Slowly the tigress raised a paw, placing the other across her heart.

"I swear, from one sister to another, I'll keep my maw shut." Vanna said.

Qali let out a irritated groan, her arms remaining firmly crossed as she turned her head up to the sky.

"Ffffine!" She huffed. "Sister swear, I won't tell." The diminutive fox brought a paw to her muzzle, drawing a phantom zipper from one side to the other.

With that, Dawn let out an immensely relieved sigh. She felt better being able to tell someone what she had planned to do, despite them more or less refuting the idea. And even though she had little to draw from about exactly what could be irritating Dorian other than herself, she at least had something. It was enough to make the ewe more confident about the difficult task that lay ahead.

"But if things get rough, kick him in the shin and run away!" Qali added. "that always works on big mammals!"

"Qali!" Vanna hissed. "She's wants to make it better, not worse!"

The arctic fox shrugged. "That's why I said 'if things get rough'."

The loud clack of a screen door drew the girls attention away from their huddle. Near the front door of the Hunter Ranch, Vernon had finally appeared. The large wolf was surprisingly unencumbered, carrying what looked like a traditional style picnic basket with an orange plaid colored sheet sticking out of it. He also appeared to have something slung over his shoulder, but the ewe couldn't make out just what it was. Despite the seemingly small number of items he was carrying, the wolf's face looked beleaguered, as if he had been running himself ragged while inside the ranch. Dawn was quick to scramble to her feet, in an effort to keep the wolf's suspicion down about exactly what she was talking about. The other girls were quick to follow suit as the tired looking wolf lightly jogged over.

"Hey Floofs, sorry that took me so long." The wolf huffed. Vernon dragged the sling over his shoulder free to reveal what he was carrying on his back. It looked to be some sort of crock-pot or melter that he had placed in a carrying case.

"I had to find the portable heater to melt the butter for the corn." The wolf sighed, running a paw over his scalp. "Can you believe it was in the bathroom cabinet of all places?" Vernon chuckled as he slung the cooker back over his shoulder.

"And I still got to roll the grill out of the barn." The wolf said, pointing a thumb toward the worn old barn. "But we should be all set to go."

Dawn flashed a wide smile. "Oh I can't wait to get started Puppy. I've been looking forward to this all day!" The ewe clapped her hooves together excitedly.

Vernon smiled back, but as he glanced around he arched an eyebrow as he seemed to finally notice Vanna and Qali.

"Oh, were ya'll talking?" Vernon asked. "About nothin' bad I hope."

"No, w-we were uh..." Dawn trailed off.

"Just having some 'girl talk'." Qali chirped happily.

Vernon placed a paw to his head, letting out a groan. "Oh no, already?" He chuckled. "Should I be worried about what secrets you've been telling Honey Lamb?"

"Worried?" Vanna cut in. "More like proud from what she told us, 'Puppy Love'." Vanna had tried to make the pet name sound as sultry as possible, but it sounded odd coming from the tigress' muzzle. Even so, it had the desired effect, and Vernon blushed intensely, nearly dropping the basket he was carrying.

"A-Alright, alright, I don't want to know anymore!" The wolf whined, placing a paw over his muzzle.

To add to the distraction, a growing rumble drew the groups attention toward the barn. Zach and Trenton were now making their way over, with Zach rolling a small, metal grill in front of him. As the wolves joined the group, Zach spun the handles of the metal grill Vernon's way.

"Hey Vern, thought I'd save ya the trouble of getting this fer yer little picnic." Zach said.

"I told you about that?" Vernon asked in surprise.

"I heard ya'll mention it at the uh..." Zach paused, clearly uncomfortable. "Well you know...durin' that ugliness at the fair."

Vernon grimaced slightly, looking at Dawn in concern briefly before turning back to the russet wolf.

"Oh...yeah..." Vernon mumbled uneasily. "T-thanks Big Bro." Vernon placed a paw on one of the handles, leaning against the grill slightly. The wolf let out another sigh before giving his head a terse shake. With it the wolf stood back up, a renewed smile crossing his muzzle.

"W-well then if were all done here..." Vernon coughed. "Ready to get movin' Honey Lamb?"

Dawn did her best to smile through her worry. It was best to start practicing now in preparation for facing Dorian. The ewe placed her hooves behind her back, beginning to sway back and forth slightly as she managed to give the wolf a playful grin.

"T-that depends..." Dawn giggled. "You got enough room to carry me Puppy Love?"

Dawn could see Vernon's tail begin to wag wildly as a bright grin crossed his muzzle.

"Sure as shootin' I can!" The wolf said excitedly.

In seconds the ewe found herself scooped into Vernon's free arm, and he quickly eased her up onto his left shoulder. Once Dawn had properly seated herself, the wolf slowly released his grip and returned his paw to the grill handle. With a kick he tilted the grill back onto its wheels.

"Welp, I'm guessin' we'll see ya'll after dinner." Vernon said. The others seemed to quickly catch his infectious grin Vernon was wearing aside from Vanna, who limited herself to a light smirk.

"You two have fun." Trenton said, raising his paw and flicking his fingers in a small waive. "We'll be inside if ya need anything."

"Heee-eeeey Trenny." Qali whined as she began to grasp at Trenton's paw. Dawn watched the wolf's ears perk up, and the white wolf turned his attention to the diminutive fox pawing at his side.

"Carry me too, Puh-leeze..." The fox continued to whimper as a pitiful frown crossed her muzzle. The arctic fox's sorrowful eyes seemed to glimmer as she pleadingly stared back up at her mate. "I'm tired from lifting all those boxes!"

"All three of them." Vanna remarked.

Qali threw a quick sneer Vanna's way before turning back on the pathetic stare.

Trenton drew a paw over his scalp, letting out a tired sigh.

"Anything fer my Snowflake." The wolf chuckled. Trenton leaned down, extending his arm out to the small fox and allowing her to climb onto it.

"One ski lift coming up!" Trenton announced, bringing the giggling mammal up to his own shoulders before seating the fox behind his head. "Top of slope, everyone off!" Qali buried her muzzle into the hair on the wolf's head, doing her best to stifle the steady laughter erupting from her. Trenton flashed the couple another waive before turning toward the house and walking off.

"Yeah, have a good picnic." Zach added as Vanna placed a paw on his shoulder. The tigress let out a barely audible whine as Zach turned his attention to her. He glanced at her in confusion briefly before a dull look crossed his face.

"Kitten no." The wolf said bluntly. "Do you really even think I could carry you?"

Vanna was silent for a moment, her eyes evading his as she mumbled a reply.

"I-it looks fun..."

"Kitten you'd put me in the hospital!" Zach said, rolling his eyes as he began to walk toward the house. Vanna kept her paw on his shoulder as she followed after, flashing Dawn a smirk as she passed by.

"You could at least try..." Dawn could hear Vanna mumble.

"Kitten, please." Was the last thing Dawn heard before they were out of earshot. The ewe couldn't help but giggle to herself at the very thought of Vanna trying to ride on Zach's shoulders.

"Welp, we should get moving. I got to get the corn on the grill if were ever gonna eat it." Vernon said with a chuckle. Dawn leaned over, wrapping her hooves tightly around Vernon's neck to stabilize herself.

"Lead the way Puppy, I'm famished." The ewe said, squeezing the wolf in a short hug. "And I could use some 'cuddle time'."

The ewe could feel a slight shudder travel through the wolf's body, and she knew instantly his tail was wagging again.

"Alright Lamb Fry, hold on tight!" Vernon replied.

And with that the wolf was off toward the corn field. It wasn't a very long trip as the wolf took off in a brisk jog toward his desired destination, earning giggles from Dawn the whole way as she held tightly on to her wolfy steed. Vernon slowed down as he came to the edge of the orange and yellow corn stalks, coming to a full stop just short of where the field truly began. Easing Dawn off his shoulders with care, the wolf was quick to pull the large plaid cloth free of the picnic basket he had stored it in. With Dawn's help the wolf gingerly laid it down and spread it out as flat as he could. It took some effort as the light wind that had kicked up seemed to be keen on undoing their work, and eventually the wolf had to use a combination of large, loose stones, as well as the grill and basket of supplies to hold down the loose corners of the blanket.

Once the area was settled, Vernon insisted that Dawn get comfortable while he went to work. Dawn's protests were quick to fall under the wolf's persistence, and soon the ewe found herself simply watching as the large wolf busied himself preparing everything he had planned for the meal. First the wolf prepped the grill, making sure the gas was flowing and lit before pulling a few cobs of corn from the picnic basket. They were already tightly wrapped in foil, and the wolf saw fit to leave them that way as he lowered them onto the hot skillet. Next he set the melting pot down on the blanket, emptying three bars of butter from the basket into the pot and turning it on. As the wolf began to add seasonings to the rapidly melting butter, he started to tell Dawn all about how the family went about making their particular style of roasted corn. And mostly about how his Mom had always been insistent on teaching the boys how to cook from a very young age. As it turns out, Audrey had always been very keen on educating her sons how to survive on their own, especially after she found out Dorian couldn't cook or wash to any degree. Apparently Auddy had went out of her way to make sure she only ever had to deal with one overgrown puppy rather than eight.

When the wolf was seemingly satisfied with how well the corn had cooked, he put the heated cobs on a large plate. Taking his place next to Dawn and the melting pot, the wolf took one of the cobs, skewering it with two small handles on either side, before removing a small brush from the nearby basket. Stirring it into the butter mixture, the wolf peeled away the hot foil before slathering the cob in steaming butter.

Dawn watched intently as the wolf made multiple passes, making the cob practically dribbling with savory butter. The ewe found herself starting to question just how many calories the cob was gaining with every stroke before she suddenly found it thrust in front of her face. The wolf gestured for her to take it.

"Go on." Vernon said with a smile. "You'll love it."

Dawn warily took the cob by one of the skewers, bringing it near her mouth as the wolf released his grip. Now with both hooves on either end, she gave the wolf another uncertain glance.

"It's a vacation Honey Lamb, don't worry about the how much weight it's gonna add! Just enjoy it!" Vernon gave the ewe a playful nudge, arching his eyebrow and donning a mischievous grin. "Besides, I like that curve you got going on."

Dawn gave the wolf a playful swat. "Ver-noooon!" Dawn whined.

"C'mon, stop stallin' and take a bite." The wolf jibbed.

Dawn took a deep breath before bringing the cob to her mouth. The moment she dug her teeth into it her mouth was filled with the most heavenly flavor she had ever tasted. The corn was both sweet and savory, with just a hint of spice, and the pleasant crunch of the snapping kernels' made it all the more enticing. The ewe let out a slight moan as she greedily chewed through her first bite.

"Good?" Vernon asked.

"Mhh!" Dawn moaned through her second mouthful, she hadn't been able to wait till her mouth was empty to respond. The food was simply too scrumptious for her to stop.

She could hear Vernon chuckle to himself as he bit into a cob of his own. And for the next few minutes very little words passed between the pair other than simple groans of pleasure as they ate through multiple cobs of buttered corn. By the time Dawn was full, the ewe had managed to annihilate four cobs on her own, a personal record for her. Looking over at Vernon, the wolf seemed to have made it through six himself. She watched the wolf pat his stomach, letting out a satisfied sigh as he placed his plate on the far end of the blanket.

"All done?" The wolf asked.

Dawn gave a brisk nod, wiping her mouth with one of the napkins the wolf had set out for them. "If there's going to be a dessert, I'm going to have to be done." Dawn chuckled.

"O'course there is." Vernon said, leaning over to take her plate.

"Can't have roasted corn without some of Ma's famous pumpkin pie." Vernon placed her plate next to his own before leaning back on his paws.

"Then yes, as hard as it is to say this, I can't have anymore corn." The ewe said with a giggle. Vernon smiled widely at the ewe before patting his paw on the blanket next to him, gesturing for the ewe move in close. Dawn didn't hesitate, taking the opportunity to sidle up to the wolf, resting her head on his lap.

The two had turned their attention to the sun, which now lay low over the corn field. The sky was draped in a deep, dull orange, and if Dawn looked hard enough, some of the brightest stars in the sky could be seen just starting to peek out of the daylight haze. It wouldn't be long now before the sky was heavy with sparkling lights, hanging like diamonds in a dark satin sheet.

After the practically bi-polar twists and turns the day had brought, this moment was a beautiful reprieve for the ewe. It was simply her and her Puppy Love. Alone, with no one to judge them, no one to bother them. Just the two of them and the beauty of nature. Dawn let out a contented sigh. This moment, this very instant, was just as Vernon described it would be. It was just what she wanted more than anything out of the trip, and she found herself wishing it would last forever.

But as she felt the wolf gently start to pet her head, she heard a small whine escape his muzzle. That one tiny noise had brought her back from her reverie and reminded her of what she had to do. Despite everything, she knew her Puppy was still hurting, and he needed to let it out. And the time had come to do just that.

"V-vernon?" Dawn uttered.

"Mhh?" The wolf replied.

Dawn let out a sigh, swallowing hard before she managed to build up the courage to continue.

"Are you okay?" Dawn asked timidly.

The wolf let out and exhausted sigh.

[rina-rambles]

The Peepal Tree: Behind The Scenes & Curtain Calls

Hard as it is to believe, it is almost time for Rina Didi’s (hopefully temporary) curtain call. While I hope the literary group remember the German I taught them, this article is about my real legacy after the few months at Happy Days: the English play with Class 5A.

Admittedly Nani did a lot of the initial legwork, adapting the script from a Ruskin Bond story to make it suitable for a school play and proving once again why everyone adores Umi Ma’am. But from the moment I sat down to type up the script, I felt attached to the story and what it would grow to become. This doesn’t mean that the production is huge, quite the opposite in fact: With a cast of only 15 or 16 kids and three short scenes, the play is relatively small-time. Add to that the fact that it’s a fifth grader’s performance and my pride in the project may seem over the top. My own fifth-grade play is a hazy memory now, as this production will be for these kids ten years from now, if at all.

As a quote from my favourite TV show Glee nicely puts it: “Life only really has one beginning and one end…the rest is just a whole lot of middle.” This play is hardly comparable to a lifetime but the sentiment is fitting. That scene was leading up to a show choir competition for a group of misfit kids in high school and their teacher, whose quote that is, had some noteworthy advice: It doesn’t matter whether you win or lose when the journey has been so much fun. 

Not that any sane parent dislikes a performance from their child, but the point is that audience reception of this play doesn’t matter to me. I will remember every minute of our rehearsals fondly and if there’s one thing making me sad at this point, it’s the fact that I will miss the final performance of the play in December. But my “whole lot of middle” about this journey has been every day with these kids and getting to watch them grow into their roles with infectious enthusiasm and joy. The story is simple but it is the progress made in just over a month of rehearsals that have made it memorable, at least for me.

The Story

The Peepal Tree is narrated by a young man named Bobby, telling the story of a disruptive arrival to his family home when he was eight years old. Living with his Dada and Dadi, life was peaceful until the local P.W.D department decided an ancient peepal tree in the family’s garden was obstructing the road and would need to be cut down. Led by a pompous chief engineer, the surveyors descend upon the family garden to measure out the space required for the wider road. A team of obedient woodcutters soon follow suit, paying no attention to how much their presence and ruthless destruction of the tree anger the master of the house, Bobby’s Dada. The old man tries in vain to remind the business-like chief engineer of the government’s message to replenish nature rather than cut down such valuable greenery. Neither his anger nor Bobby’s Dadi’s broken-hearted cries at the loss of her beloved tree have any effect on the workers and the chopping commences.

As the first scene draws to a close, the narrator chimes in with the foreshadowing insight that Prets, meaning ghosts, often live in peepal trees. No one in the house would be able to see this spirit, but with the tree gone, the mischievous creature had nowhere to go but their once peaceful family home. The play’s second scene takes place in the house and opens with a clear indication of the havoc caused by the Pret. Bobby’s Dadi has apparently misplaced her glasses and in her frantic hunt lays the blame on Bobby, innocently doing his homework nearby. As the eight-year-old points out he had nothing to do with the disappearance of her spectacles, the old woman asks him to locate her missing keys. This is the cue for the ghost to have some fun and the keys soar across the room, out of the little boy’s reach and leaving him confused and out of breath. That was the moment the grandmother realized that the strange chaos must be caused by the Pret from their old peepal tree, a moment of recognition met by delighted applause from the naughty spirit.

After this introduction to the ghostly chaos, the narrator announces the arrival of a new victim for the Pret, the misfortunate Raju Uncle. Exhausted by his long journey, the man tries to sleep but the Pret cheekily pulls the sheets off him and throws them to the ground repeatedly. The result is a restless night and when the scene shifts to a family breakfast the next morning, Raju is in a very sleep-deprived and grumpy mood as he informs the family of the mysterious flying sheets. For this prank too, young Bobby gets suspected and blamed by his uncle, though the little boy has moved out of that room while Raju is staying. It is then that the Dadi tells him of the strange disappearances of her glasses, the flying keys and general havoc in their organized home since the peepal tree was chopped down…the Pret is to blame for Raju’s rough night as well.

The narrator indicates the passage of time at this point, with the mischievous Pret continuing to create chaos and messes in the house, to Dadi’s dismay. Then another new arrival is introduced, loaded with heavy baggage to exhaust her plump physique, the dramatic Kamini Aunty enters. The Pret takes an instant liking to her, showering her with rose petals stolen from Dada’s garden as a welcoming gesture. Although angered by the destruction of his flower garden, the old man recognises this action as a sign that the Pret approves of Kamini and says so. Kamini then makes the fatal mistake of saying she doesn’t believe in ghosts and such things, leading the spirit to throw fruit at her head in revenge. In those few poorly chosen words, Kamini Aunty managed to get on the naughty Pret’s bad side and this would be soon proven in the ghost’s ultimate prank. In switching out Kamini’s tube of toothpaste with some of Dada’s shaving cream, the Pret had her frothing at the mouth and led to Raju Uncle dramatically declaring; “Keep away from her, she has rabies!”

The final scene arrives with a brainwave from Raju to rid the family of the Pret’s annoying presence. He heads off to the bazaar and returns shortly with a Sadhu known for ridding houses of evil spirits, despite young Bobby’s insistence that the Pret is just mischievous, not evil. The Sadhu moves around the house, chanting mantras and lighting incense sticks to ward off the lingering spirit haunting the family. When he is finished, he gleefully demands payment for his services from Raju Uncle, only to have the Pret pelt him with garbage and chase him away for good. The narrator then eases along the passage of time once more, with the family adjusting to their friendly Pret’s habitual tricks and pranks since there seems to be no getting rid of the ghost. One day, the Dadaji beckons his wife and grandson to the garden eagerly, claiming he has a surprise for them. It turns out to be the sapling of a peepal tree, to take the place of the one so viciously cut down by the P.W.D department. Little Bobby is disappointed to learn how long the tree will take to become as large and majestic as the first one, but vows to take care of the little sapling for as long as he lives. The Pret is overjoyed to have a home again and applauds the planting of the little sapling, giving weight to the environmental message of the play: For every tree we cut down, one should be planted in order for the circle of life to continue.

No matter what happens when this play is ultimately performed, I know how far these kids have come. In early October, rehearsals began sitting crowded around the table in the staff room, just reading through the script to try and find the right person for each part. There were perfect fits, like the narrator Aman and Sumit as our Raju Uncle. Other key parts, like our Dadaji, were re-cast multiple times until Tushant finally claimed the role. The play is built upon a message of environmental preservation importance, so the old man’s final monologue is vital. With Umi Ma’am as his daily coach since he got the part quite far into the process, I have full faith in him. There are only two girls in this little play, as Dadiji and the dramatic Kamini Aunty. The grandmother needed to be emotional at the loss of her precious peepal tree and Aunt Kamini has the play’s biggest prank played on her and had to act accordingly. Again quite far into rehearsals, considering the school break for Diwali, we swapped the two girls’ roles. Originally the Dadi, Manya is much better suited to the exaggerated drama of a plump aunty who has her toothpaste swapped for shaving cream by the Pret. And Pankhuri has adorably awkward chemistry with Tushant, as it always looks like he’s touching her head in blessing when he guides her away from the garden wing of the stage as the tree is being cut down.

Other fond memories include the adorable drawings from various boys in the early days, which I will definitely proudly frame for my bedroom in Switzerland. It was also touching to see the family unity across two areas of the school I was involved in when Prashika from my literary hobby group came to beg us to give her brother (an originally mute surveyor of the tree cutting) a line in the play to increase his self-confidence. That impressed me and was symbolic of everything I have grown to love about Happy Days in the past few months. We’ve had ups and downs through this process, of course, distractions in every form from stray monkeys to the construction of stage lighting when the school recently had its 25-year reunion function. But as the final week of rehearsals rolls on before I hope to prove to my parents that these months have been well worth it, I am really proud of these kids.

It was difficult to get fifth graders to understand the assignment when I asked them to write down their fondest memories of this whole process…or maybe I’m just more sentimental and nostalgic. I also tried to get them to imagine alternate endings to the play. The only option to come out of that exercise was the new peepal tree hypothetically being cut down again one day, causing the Pret to move in with the family once more. Some of the kids did confess their highlights of the storyline though: For Manya, it was seeing the ghost pull off Raju’s bedclothes repeatedly and for Sumit, Raju himself, it was the line “Keep away from her, she has rabies!” For me, the funniest will always be Sumit’s confession that he didn’t have the 30 rupees his character was required to pay the spirit-banishing Sadhu…I told him to pretend but the dismay was precious. Now the poor Sadhu gets a handkerchief pressed into his hand as payment, as Sumit cheekily told me only this week…you have to love this boy. Whatever the case, I know that I will treasure the dramatic increase in excitement and enthusiasm whenever I would pull out my camera. My phone has been a life-line on this trip for a reason; I will look back at those videos and photographs very soon with as much pride as the kids showed every time they fought to be the centre of attention. I’ll be waiting eagerly for the day I can come back to Happy Days no matter what, but I hope that in the ultimate dress rehearsal next week my kids give me a good reason to. All that’s left to say is that I love them and every memory they have given me in the past few months. Good luck in December and I demand videos of the big day; Rina Didi will miss you all!

Speaking of missing people, it’s not only the school I have to temporarily say goodbye to but also my family. Since this may be my final article until I come back in hopefully a few months, there are some things that need saying. I have been coming to Shivpuri every year for my whole life and it has always been home, but in the past three months is the first time it has really felt like it, if that makes sense. It was a safe place to venture into teaching, with my family to fall back on and I am so grateful for that. Thank you, Nani, especially, for being there at every play rehearsal, even when the kids didn’t quite live up to your expectations. Thank you Geeta Mami, for being such an awesome boss and letting me start out with sessions in your office. Thank you Aditi, for putting up with me as a roomie and Arjun for letting me take over your desk for hours every day, I hope I’ve made my mark. And Sam, for encouraging every article and indulging my inner fangirl at the same time…you love my words but none can actually describe what a confidence booster all your help was, I love you and see you soon!

[of-another-broken-heart]

My swollen lymph node situation is improving finally. Swollen still, but much less than yesterday. The bug bites have died down and are drying out or something. They aren’t as big or itchy. 

I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep. Woke up to boss making a text request about someone from last month. Turned out everything was in order, but he and the client were both absolute crap and keeping/checking their own records, so I had to get up and waste time triple-checking for them. 

I do think I’ve come down with a bit of a cold. 

I made myself a double batch of cheesy ramen and dumped the leftover green beans from dinner in it. That was brunch. Then, yesterday, I picked up some weirdly out-of-season super-on-sale refrigerated canned chocolate cinnamon rolls. So I baked  some of those when mom was home on her lunch break. Basically they were normal cinnamon rolls, but instead of the usual super-sweet white sugar icing, it came with a smooth chocolate icing. Still sweet, but not the hyper-sugar sorta sweet of the white icing. The can had 5 rolls in it - enough for everyone to have one. Even the kids’ glutton father. 

I’ve just kinda been... coasting thru the day. I’m really tired. 

yesterday lil sis wrote me a note to apologize for how she behaved/snapped on Saturday night. I didn’t find it until later in the day, but between the note and chatting with her/ taking her along to the grocery store, I learned some things. Mostly that she doesn’t want to eat meat/ can’t eat meat because she’s seen too many horror documentaries about how the animals are butchered. The exceptions are: fish (they don’t make the cut for empathy, I guess - that seems to be a common trend), hamburgers (she “doesn’t know why” but I’m sure it’s because it’s her favorite fast food thing), and processed/breaded chicken (it’s not visually recognizable as meat due to the breading and shapes, I guess. I get it, mostly). She says she wants to be vegetarian - but she hates vegetables. Except corn and carrots, basically. She is very insistent lately that she be allowed to eat a whole can of creamed corn as a meal replacement whenever she doesn’t want/like what’s served for dinner. She’s expressed this [desire to go vegetarian / aversion to meat] to mom before, apparently, and lil sis  says mom is really, really resistant to a more vegetarian diet for lil sis. I haven’t witnessed this conversation, but I believe it. Mom is very stubborn and annoyingly closed-minded when it comes to food things, plus she has the stress of managing a whole household’s food on a pretty tight welfare budget. 

I’m in the middle. I understand the financial inability to add a completely separate food list to a household’s grocery shopping when that household gets by primarily on food stamps. But I also don’t think it’s impossible to make a few swaps and adjustments to compromise and make sure everyone has food they like and will eat. The main concern is: lil sis primarily likes to eat noodles. After that, high-starch low-nutrition vegetables (corn). Then, sweet fruits (apples, strawberries, peaches, grapes). Obviously, when the household is tight on cash, the boxed pastas are the cheapest and most filling, so those are the “best” option. And we always have pasta in the cabinets. But the nutrition of that option is bullshit. It’s practically all carbs - no dietary fats, no protein, very little vitamins and minerals. The canned creamed corn isn’t much better - it’s also primarily carbs and starch, with some added sugar and animal fat in the form of the cream. Fruits: more of the same, with a greater shift to natural sugars and fiber. But still: little to no protein, and incredibly scant amounts of vitamins and minerals. And no, she doesn’t take supplements or multivitamins. Lil sis is quite bad at swallowing pills (when she was prescribed antibiotics, the first few days were stressful, tedious hell). She even refuses the delicious gummy ones. 

So, I mean. Until she authentically experiences having to afford to feed herself, she’s never going to fully break away from her opinion that mom can ~totally~ afford a full separate fresh-veg/fresh-fruit grocery list. But, also, mom’s too stubbornly resistant to the idea of letting lil sis eat less meat to make any meaningful grocery list swaps. So I scratched my constantly-misfiring brain and perused some sale items in the grocery store, to try to bring home some more nutritionally valuable things that lil sis can eat. She still likes yogurt, so I had her pick some out. There were some protein granola things that she was pretty sure she’s like - so I picked a couple of those up. (Mom usually gets the “snack” versions that are just granola, sugar, and chocolate bits) Strawberries were BOGO, so I bought two little tubs of those, with the note that each one should last about three days. (Despite putting my initials on them to keep her father out, I think he’s gotten into them already - he also ate the fruit cups I bought for lil sis a week or two ago. She never even knew they were in the house before he’d eaten all of them) 

Anyway. idk. There was also some chitchat with mom before I went to the grocery store with lil sis yesterday. And lil sis was saying some hardcore socialist/ancom shit without knowing it. (mostly she was getting at the idea of the Universal Basic Income) And mom was being predictably super-defensive of her Murican Capitalism (”But if everyone gets their basic needs met, literally no one will work ever again!” etc). I genuinely wanted to get into an explanation of how mom was wrong, and basically advocating for the death of anyone who couldn’t contribute “enough” “meaningful” labor (and we actually did touch on it briefly when mom brought up a handicapped acquaintance of ours) but I did not have anywhere near the energy to go through with it. I felt a bit proud of lil sis for not being brainwashed by capitalist propaganda (even from her own mom). 

goddamn I’m hungry today. Recapping the grocery adventure from yesterday sure didn’t help though. 

[wineanddinosaur]

One Man’s Strange Quest to Make a 50-State Whiskey Blend

With the last decade’s boom in craft whiskey, now literally every single U.S. state has at least one homegrown distillery producing whiskey, whether bourbon, rye, Tennessee whiskey, single malt, or ones even more exotic than that. There are whiskeys made with corn, rye, barley, millet, and even sorghum. There are some that use a mesquite-smoked malt, others that employ port-barrel finishes. Just like the country itself, American whiskey is messy and hard to get a handle on. But, one man wondered, was there any way to tie them all together and produce something greater than its constituent parts?

“It wasn’t just a fun, gimmicky thing, though, it was a very personal thing,” says Michael Bloom. “I’ve never been a collector of closed bottles. I’ve always wanted to open and taste flavorful spirits that aren’t in the mainstream.”

Though the 52-year-old Bloom is not in the spirits industry per se — career-wise he’s a federal government bureaucrat (“and proud to be!”) — he has been drinking whiskey for decades and is a fixture on the whiskey “scene.” In fact, I first met him at an event for my book, “Hacking Whiskey,” in the fall of 2018 in his hometown of Chicago. Even then he was telling me about his ambitions for a “50 State Blend,” something he’d been thinking about since 2015 at least. In an email from October 2018, he wrote to me: “I imagine my first crack at this as a 1/2 oz from every state in a single bottle. But I love the idea of a true National blend, a United Spirit so to speak, and think the collaboration could scale too.”

If you didn’t know, amateur blending has gotten hot in the last decade, with hobbyists taking to Reddit and Facebook to discuss their blends. Yet only a few have managed to pervade the whiskey zeitgeist, most notably Poor Man’s Pappy — a theoretically cheap blend designed to resemble the sought-after Van Winkle — and another called California Gold.

Bloom has never had any ambitions like that, but he’s been quietly making his own amateur whiskey blends for 12 years now, a hobby that first began when he acquired some Woodinville Whiskey “white dog” and a one-liter barrel. Since then, he’s done blends to celebrate weddings and bar mitzvahs (to open when the kids turn 21!), he’s made a blend for his synagogue’s Purim celebration, and even done charity-related blends like CowaLUNGa, to support Respiratory Health Association of Metropolitan Chicago’s annual 190-mile bike ride from Illinois to Wisconsin.

But all those blends were made with just a handful of whiskeys. Bloom knew the 50 State Blend would be his most challenging project yet. He’d first, of course, have to obtain 50 states’ (and a Washington, D.C.’s) worth of whiskey. Back in 2018, Bloom only had 18 of the states covered and was able to find a few more at his local Binny’s Beverage Depot. For the rest of them, he worked off “best of” lists on the internet to whittle down the thousands of possibilities.

“I was seeking what’s different and new,” explains Bloom, “not necessarily what’s the smoothest or heftiest, or is even a brand everyone knows.”

Credit: 50 State Blend

To acquire many of the bottles, he was able to order the whiskeys through online retailers like Spirit Hub. Some states would be quite difficult, of course. Despite it acclaimed Louisiana Single Malt, New Orleans’ Atelier Vie Distillery only sells bottles for a few hours every Saturday — luckily, Bloom’s brother works for the NBA’s Phoenix Suns and was able to get an appointment when the team was in town to play the Pelicans. Bloom acquired Alaska’s Port Chilkoot Distillery rye when his parents just happened to be taking an anniversary cruise up the Alaskan coast.

“South Dakota was the toughest acquisition and the only one where I felt stuck,” Bloom says. He couldn’t even find friends of friends who knew someone there, one of the country’s least-populated states. Finally, he had the clever idea to reach out to a South Dakota whiskey enthusiasts Facebook group for a little help. The group’s moderator ended up sending him a bottle of Badlands Distillery’s Iron Hills Bourbon.

Meanwhile, until just last year, Hawaii didn’t even have its own whiskey — the Ko’Olau Distillery now offers Old Pali Road Whiskey, a bourbon-style whiskey made from local corn and blended with some undisclosed whiskey from the mainland. That latter point is critical. Aside from being forced to break his own rule with Hawaii, Bloom was strictly looking to acquire whiskeys that had been 100 percent produced within their respective states. That, thus, meant no products that had sourced the ubiquitous MGP whiskey and then simply bottled it at home.

He likewise wanted to avoid any big-boy distilleries, opting for New Riff’s Straight Rye for Kentucky’s entry and Nelson’s Green Brier Tennessee Whiskey for the Volunteer State. He actually considered using an MGP whiskey for Indiana’s entry, but instead opted for Starlight Distillery’s bourbon.

By early March of this year, just as the pandemic was shutting down the country, Bloom had finally collected all 51 bottles and took to his office, trying to figure out how to harness them all. First, the highly analytical Bloom would taste them, not only taking notes, but ranking each on a score of 1 to 100 on nose, palate, mouthfeel, and finish.

“How radically different all these states are,” he says. “All making such interesting stuff.”

While it wasn’t shocking that the much-acclaimed Balcones’ Texas Single Malt Whisky had his highest aggregate score (369 out of 400), there were many other surprises. Like One Eight Distilling’s District Made, a youthful straight rye from Washington, D.C., that, Bloom explains, is “not on most people’s radar.” He also liked a mere months-old single malt from Nebraska, which he calls “red-apple forward.”

Credit: 50 State Blend

Bloom was blown away by another single malt from Idaho, Warfield Distillery’s Certified Organic American Pot Still Whiskey, which he found “extraordinarily subtle, like a grassy Lowlands Scotch.” He had initially balked at Warfield’s $100 price tag, but is glad he went for it (Bloom claims he paid an average of $65 per bottle, including shipping).

By late March he was ready to start blending. For a “first draft,” Bloom measured out 10 milliliters of every whiskey — 14 bourbons, 14 ryes, 12 single malts, one single malt rye, one Tennessee whiskey (of course!), one millet whiskey, one sorghum whiskey, and six uncategorizable whiskeys — to see “if it actually has character.” It wasn’t bad. But he wondered what he could do to make it better.

“Ultimately, I’m striving for a balanced blend with an enticing nose, rich palate, weighty mouthfeel, and lingering finish,” says Bloom, who launched a 50 State Blend website to further detail the project and his methodology. “A dram of 50 State Blend should tell a compelling story and satisfy discerning whiskey lovers.”

For the second draft, Bloom created a weighted score that gave the most weight to palate (43 percent) followed by nose (30 percent), finish (17 percent), and mouthfeel (10 percent). He used the weighted scores to create a proportion of the total blend volume for each whiskey. In other words, the highest-scoring Balcones would contribute 49 milliliters, while the lower-scoring Ko’Olau only 13.5 milliliters. He quickly discovered an issue.

“My scoring gave higher scores to fuller nose and mouthfeel and longer finish so the resulting blend was biased toward outsized and complex flavors,” says Bloom. By the fourth draft, he was finally honing in on a nuanced blend. Instead of relying on pure mathematics, he developed this blend by feel, working from his memory for how the ingredients tasted and would interact with one another. He was quite satisfied with the result, a full-bodied yet balanced whiskey.

“I don’t know how many drafts there’ll be or whether I’ll ever be done,” he says. He’s barrel-aged a few batches and is even thinking of starting a solera system, swapping in new whiskeys from each state at times. “My favorite [drafts] have more of the unusual stuff in it. I don’t want you to taste it and say, ‘This is easy to drink and smooth.’ Who cares?!”

Bloom’s 50 State Blend is already garnering some buzz among whiskey cognoscenti, even though scoring samples of the non-commercial release is nearly impossible. This one seems poised to join the realm of Poor Man’s Pappy and California Gold, as Bloom is already being featured on industry podcasts. The only difference is, it would be very time-consuming and costly for others to recreate the recipe themselves. Not to mention, some of the bottles are extremely limited — single-barrel picks and distillery-only bottlings. Another one, a Single Cask Nation Westland 2-Year-Old, will never be made again. Meaning even Bloom needs to start finding understudies for future blends.

Luckily, Bloom has found that his favorite part of making the 50 State Blend is discovering all the great whiskey being made across our country, bottles like Brooklyn’s Widow Jane and South Carolina’s High Wire Distilling, which makes a red-corn whiskey that Bloom hopes to get a bottle of soon, maybe even in person. But until then, stuck in quarantine like the rest of us, Bloom will keep experiencing the country merely by sipping its whiskey.

“Sampling spirits is a great way of experiencing places when we’re not able to do so in person,” says Bloom. “It’s not an accident that I got this off the ground during Covid.”

The article One Man’s Strange Quest to Make a 50-State Whiskey Blend appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/50-state-whiskey-blend/

[johnboothus]

One Mans Strange Quest to Make a 50-State Whiskey Blend

With the last decade’s boom in craft whiskey, now literally every single U.S. state has at least one homegrown distillery producing whiskey, whether bourbon, rye, Tennessee whiskey, single malt, or ones even more exotic than that. There are whiskeys made with corn, rye, barley, millet, and even sorghum. There are some that use a mesquite-smoked malt, others that employ port-barrel finishes. Just like the country itself, American whiskey is messy and hard to get a handle on. But, one man wondered, was there any way to tie them all together and produce something greater than its constituent parts?

“It wasn’t just a fun, gimmicky thing, though, it was a very personal thing,” says Michael Bloom. “I’ve never been a collector of closed bottles. I’ve always wanted to open and taste flavorful spirits that aren’t in the mainstream.”

Though the 52-year-old Bloom is not in the spirits industry per se — career-wise he’s a federal government bureaucrat (“and proud to be!”) — he has been drinking whiskey for decades and is a fixture on the whiskey “scene.” In fact, I first met him at an event for my book, “Hacking Whiskey,” in the fall of 2018 in his hometown of Chicago. Even then he was telling me about his ambitions for a “50 State Blend,” something he’d been thinking about since 2015 at least. In an email from October 2018, he wrote to me: “I imagine my first crack at this as a 1/2 oz from every state in a single bottle. But I love the idea of a true National blend, a United Spirit so to speak, and think the collaboration could scale too.”

If you didn’t know, amateur blending has gotten hot in the last decade, with hobbyists taking to Reddit and Facebook to discuss their blends. Yet only a few have managed to pervade the whiskey zeitgeist, most notably Poor Man’s Pappy — a theoretically cheap blend designed to resemble the sought-after Van Winkle — and another called California Gold.

Bloom has never had any ambitions like that, but he’s been quietly making his own amateur whiskey blends for 12 years now, a hobby that first began when he acquired some Woodinville Whiskey “white dog” and a one-liter barrel. Since then, he’s done blends to celebrate weddings and bar mitzvahs (to open when the kids turn 21!), he’s made a blend for his synagogue’s Purim celebration, and even done charity-related blends like CowaLUNGa, to support Respiratory Health Association of Metropolitan Chicago’s annual 190-mile bike ride from Illinois to Wisconsin.

But all those blends were made with just a handful of whiskeys. Bloom knew the 50 State Blend would be his most challenging project yet. He’d first, of course, have to obtain 50 states’ (and a Washington, D.C.’s) worth of whiskey. Back in 2018, Bloom only had 18 of the states covered and was able to find a few more at his local Binny’s Beverage Depot. For the rest of them, he worked off “best of” lists on the internet to whittle down the thousands of possibilities.

“I was seeking what’s different and new,” explains Bloom, “not necessarily what’s the smoothest or heftiest, or is even a brand everyone knows.”

Credit: 50 State Blend

To acquire many of the bottles, he was able to order the whiskeys through online retailers like Spirit Hub. Some states would be quite difficult, of course. Despite it acclaimed Louisiana Single Malt, New Orleans’ Atelier Vie Distillery only sells bottles for a few hours every Saturday — luckily, Bloom’s brother works for the NBA’s Phoenix Suns and was able to get an appointment when the team was in town to play the Pelicans. Bloom acquired Alaska’s Port Chilkoot Distillery rye when his parents just happened to be taking an anniversary cruise up the Alaskan coast.

“South Dakota was the toughest acquisition and the only one where I felt stuck,” Bloom says. He couldn’t even find friends of friends who knew someone there, one of the country’s least-populated states. Finally, he had the clever idea to reach out to a South Dakota whiskey enthusiasts Facebook group for a little help. The group’s moderator ended up sending him a bottle of Badlands Distillery’s Iron Hills Bourbon.

Meanwhile, until just last year, Hawaii didn’t even have its own whiskey — the Ko’Olau Distillery now offers Old Pali Road Whiskey, a bourbon-style whiskey made from local corn and blended with some undisclosed whiskey from the mainland. That latter point is critical. Aside from being forced to break his own rule with Hawaii, Bloom was strictly looking to acquire whiskeys that had been 100 percent produced within their respective states. That, thus, meant no products that had sourced the ubiquitous MGP whiskey and then simply bottled it at home.

He likewise wanted to avoid any big-boy distilleries, opting for New Riff’s Straight Rye for Kentucky’s entry and Nelson’s Green Brier Tennessee Whiskey for the Volunteer State. He actually considered using an MGP whiskey for Indiana’s entry, but instead opted for Starlight Distillery’s bourbon.

By early March of this year, just as the pandemic was shutting down the country, Bloom had finally collected all 51 bottles and took to his office, trying to figure out how to harness them all. First, the highly analytical Bloom would taste them, not only taking notes, but ranking each on a score of 1 to 100 on nose, palate, mouthfeel, and finish.

“How radically different all these states are,” he says. “All making such interesting stuff.”

While it wasn’t shocking that the much-acclaimed Balcones’ Texas Single Malt Whisky had his highest aggregate score (369 out of 400), there were many other surprises. Like One Eight Distilling’s District Made, a youthful straight rye from Washington, D.C., that, Bloom explains, is “not on most people’s radar.” He also liked a mere months-old single malt from Nebraska, which he calls “red-apple forward.”

Credit: 50 State Blend

Bloom was blown away by another single malt from Idaho, Warfield Distillery’s Certified Organic American Pot Still Whiskey, which he found “extraordinarily subtle, like a grassy Lowlands Scotch.” He had initially balked at Warfield’s $100 price tag, but is glad he went for it (Bloom claims he paid an average of $65 per bottle, including shipping).

By late March he was ready to start blending. For a “first draft,” Bloom measured out 10 milliliters of every whiskey — 14 bourbons, 14 ryes, 12 single malts, one single malt rye, one Tennessee whiskey (of course!), one millet whiskey, one sorghum whiskey, and six uncategorizable whiskeys — to see “if it actually has character.” It wasn’t bad. But he wondered what he could do to make it better.

“Ultimately, I’m striving for a balanced blend with an enticing nose, rich palate, weighty mouthfeel, and lingering finish,” says Bloom, who launched a 50 State Blend website to further detail the project and his methodology. “A dram of 50 State Blend should tell a compelling story and satisfy discerning whiskey lovers.”

For the second draft, Bloom created a weighted score that gave the most weight to palate (43 percent) followed by nose (30 percent), finish (17 percent), and mouthfeel (10 percent). He used the weighted scores to create a proportion of the total blend volume for each whiskey. In other words, the highest-scoring Balcones would contribute 49 milliliters, while the lower-scoring Ko’Olau only 13.5 milliliters. He quickly discovered an issue.

“My scoring gave higher scores to fuller nose and mouthfeel and longer finish so the resulting blend was biased toward outsized and complex flavors,” says Bloom. By the fourth draft, he was finally honing in on a nuanced blend. Instead of relying on pure mathematics, he developed this blend by feel, working from his memory for how the ingredients tasted and would interact with one another. He was quite satisfied with the result, a full-bodied yet balanced whiskey.

“I don’t know how many drafts there’ll be or whether I’ll ever be done,” he says. He’s barrel-aged a few batches and is even thinking of starting a solera system, swapping in new whiskeys from each state at times. “My favorite [drafts] have more of the unusual stuff in it. I don’t want you to taste it and say, ‘This is easy to drink and smooth.’ Who cares?!”

Bloom’s 50 State Blend is already garnering some buzz among whiskey cognoscenti, even though scoring samples of the non-commercial release is nearly impossible. This one seems poised to join the realm of Poor Man’s Pappy and California Gold, as Bloom is already being featured on industry podcasts. The only difference is, it would be very time-consuming and costly for others to recreate the recipe themselves. Not to mention, some of the bottles are extremely limited — single-barrel picks and distillery-only bottlings. Another one, a Single Cask Nation Westland 2-Year-Old, will never be made again. Meaning even Bloom needs to start finding understudies for future blends.

Luckily, Bloom has found that his favorite part of making the 50 State Blend is discovering all the great whiskey being made across our country, bottles like Brooklyn’s Widow Jane and South Carolina’s High Wire Distilling, which makes a red-corn whiskey that Bloom hopes to get a bottle of soon, maybe even in person. But until then, stuck in quarantine like the rest of us, Bloom will keep experiencing the country merely by sipping its whiskey.

“Sampling spirits is a great way of experiencing places when we’re not able to do so in person,” says Bloom. “It’s not an accident that I got this off the ground during Covid.”

The article One Man’s Strange Quest to Make a 50-State Whiskey Blend appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/50-state-whiskey-blend/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/one-mans-strange-quest-to-make-a-50-state-whiskey-blend

[isaiahrippinus]

One Man’s Strange Quest to Make a 50-State Whiskey Blend

With the last decade’s boom in craft whiskey, now literally every single U.S. state has at least one homegrown distillery producing whiskey, whether bourbon, rye, Tennessee whiskey, single malt, or ones even more exotic than that. There are whiskeys made with corn, rye, barley, millet, and even sorghum. There are some that use a mesquite-smoked malt, others that employ port-barrel finishes. Just like the country itself, American whiskey is messy and hard to get a handle on. But, one man wondered, was there any way to tie them all together and produce something greater than its constituent parts?

“It wasn’t just a fun, gimmicky thing, though, it was a very personal thing,” says Michael Bloom. “I’ve never been a collector of closed bottles. I’ve always wanted to open and taste flavorful spirits that aren’t in the mainstream.”

Though the 52-year-old Bloom is not in the spirits industry per se — career-wise he’s a federal government bureaucrat (“and proud to be!”) — he has been drinking whiskey for decades and is a fixture on the whiskey “scene.” In fact, I first met him at an event for my book, “Hacking Whiskey,” in the fall of 2018 in his hometown of Chicago. Even then he was telling me about his ambitions for a “50 State Blend,” something he’d been thinking about since 2015 at least. In an email from October 2018, he wrote to me: “I imagine my first crack at this as a ½ oz from every state in a single bottle. But I love the idea of a true National blend, a United Spirit so to speak, and think the collaboration could scale too.”

If you didn’t know, amateur blending has gotten hot in the last decade, with hobbyists taking to Reddit and Facebook to discuss their blends. Yet only a few have managed to pervade the whiskey zeitgeist, most notably Poor Man’s Pappy — a theoretically cheap blend designed to resemble the sought-after Van Winkle — and another called California Gold.

Bloom has never had any ambitions like that, but he’s been quietly making his own amateur whiskey blends for 12 years now, a hobby that first began when he acquired some Woodinville Whiskey “white dog” and a one-liter barrel. Since then, he’s done blends to celebrate weddings and bar mitzvahs (to open when the kids turn 21!), he’s made a blend for his synagogue’s Purim celebration, and even done charity-related blends like CowaLUNGa, to support Respiratory Health Association of Metropolitan Chicago’s annual 190-mile bike ride from Illinois to Wisconsin.

But all those blends were made with just a handful of whiskeys. Bloom knew the 50 State Blend would be his most challenging project yet. He’d first, of course, have to obtain 50 states’ (and a Washington, D.C.’s) worth of whiskey. Back in 2018, Bloom only had 18 of the states covered and was able to find a few more at his local Binny’s Beverage Depot. For the rest of them, he worked off “best of” lists on the internet to whittle down the thousands of possibilities.

“I was seeking what’s different and new,” explains Bloom, “not necessarily what’s the smoothest or heftiest, or is even a brand everyone knows.”

Credit: 50 State Blend

To acquire many of the bottles, he was able to order the whiskeys through online retailers like Spirit Hub. Some states would be quite difficult, of course. Despite it acclaimed Louisiana Single Malt, New Orleans’ Atelier Vie Distillery only sells bottles for a few hours every Saturday — luckily, Bloom’s brother works for the NBA’s Phoenix Suns and was able to get an appointment when the team was in town to play the Pelicans. Bloom acquired Alaska’s Port Chilkoot Distillery rye when his parents just happened to be taking an anniversary cruise up the Alaskan coast.

“South Dakota was the toughest acquisition and the only one where I felt stuck,” Bloom says. He couldn’t even find friends of friends who knew someone there, one of the country’s least-populated states. Finally, he had the clever idea to reach out to a South Dakota whiskey enthusiasts Facebook group for a little help. The group’s moderator ended up sending him a bottle of Badlands Distillery’s Iron Hills Bourbon.

Meanwhile, until just last year, Hawaii didn’t even have its own whiskey — the Ko’Olau Distillery now offers Old Pali Road Whiskey, a bourbon-style whiskey made from local corn and blended with some undisclosed whiskey from the mainland. That latter point is critical. Aside from being forced to break his own rule with Hawaii, Bloom was strictly looking to acquire whiskeys that had been 100 percent produced within their respective states. That, thus, meant no products that had sourced the ubiquitous MGP whiskey and then simply bottled it at home.

He likewise wanted to avoid any big-boy distilleries, opting for New Riff’s Straight Rye for Kentucky’s entry and Nelson’s Green Brier Tennessee Whiskey for the Volunteer State. He actually considered using an MGP whiskey for Indiana’s entry, but instead opted for Starlight Distillery’s bourbon.

By early March of this year, just as the pandemic was shutting down the country, Bloom had finally collected all 51 bottles and took to his office, trying to figure out how to harness them all. First, the highly analytical Bloom would taste them, not only taking notes, but ranking each on a score of 1 to 100 on nose, palate, mouthfeel, and finish.

“How radically different all these states are,” he says. “All making such interesting stuff.”

While it wasn’t shocking that the much-acclaimed Balcones’ Texas Single Malt Whisky had his highest aggregate score (369 out of 400), there were many other surprises. Like One Eight Distilling’s District Made, a youthful straight rye from Washington, D.C., that, Bloom explains, is “not on most people’s radar.” He also liked a mere months-old single malt from Nebraska, which he calls “red-apple forward.”

Credit: 50 State Blend

Bloom was blown away by another single malt from Idaho, Warfield Distillery’s Certified Organic American Pot Still Whiskey, which he found “extraordinarily subtle, like a grassy Lowlands Scotch.” He had initially balked at Warfield’s $100 price tag, but is glad he went for it (Bloom claims he paid an average of $65 per bottle, including shipping).

By late March he was ready to start blending. For a “first draft,” Bloom measured out 10 milliliters of every whiskey — 14 bourbons, 14 ryes, 12 single malts, one single malt rye, one Tennessee whiskey (of course!), one millet whiskey, one sorghum whiskey, and six uncategorizable whiskeys — to see “if it actually has character.” It wasn’t bad. But he wondered what he could do to make it better.

“Ultimately, I’m striving for a balanced blend with an enticing nose, rich palate, weighty mouthfeel, and lingering finish,” says Bloom, who launched a 50 State Blend website to further detail the project and his methodology. “A dram of 50 State Blend should tell a compelling story and satisfy discerning whiskey lovers.”

For the second draft, Bloom created a weighted score that gave the most weight to palate (43 percent) followed by nose (30 percent), finish (17 percent), and mouthfeel (10 percent). He used the weighted scores to create a proportion of the total blend volume for each whiskey. In other words, the highest-scoring Balcones would contribute 49 milliliters, while the lower-scoring Ko’Olau only 13.5 milliliters. He quickly discovered an issue.

“My scoring gave higher scores to fuller nose and mouthfeel and longer finish so the resulting blend was biased toward outsized and complex flavors,” says Bloom. By the fourth draft, he was finally honing in on a nuanced blend. Instead of relying on pure mathematics, he developed this blend by feel, working from his memory for how the ingredients tasted and would interact with one another. He was quite satisfied with the result, a full-bodied yet balanced whiskey.

“I don’t know how many drafts there’ll be or whether I’ll ever be done,” he says. He’s barrel-aged a few batches and is even thinking of starting a solera system, swapping in new whiskeys from each state at times. “My favorite [drafts] have more of the unusual stuff in it. I don’t want you to taste it and say, ‘This is easy to drink and smooth.’ Who cares?!”

Bloom’s 50 State Blend is already garnering some buzz among whiskey cognoscenti, even though scoring samples of the non-commercial release is nearly impossible. This one seems poised to join the realm of Poor Man’s Pappy and California Gold, as Bloom is already being featured on industry podcasts. The only difference is, it would be very time-consuming and costly for others to recreate the recipe themselves. Not to mention, some of the bottles are extremely limited — single-barrel picks and distillery-only bottlings. Another one, a Single Cask Nation Westland 2-Year-Old, will never be made again. Meaning even Bloom needs to start finding understudies for future blends.

Luckily, Bloom has found that his favorite part of making the 50 State Blend is discovering all the great whiskey being made across our country, bottles like Brooklyn’s Widow Jane and South Carolina’s High Wire Distilling, which makes a red-corn whiskey that Bloom hopes to get a bottle of soon, maybe even in person. But until then, stuck in quarantine like the rest of us, Bloom will keep experiencing the country merely by sipping its whiskey.

“Sampling spirits is a great way of experiencing places when we’re not able to do so in person,” says Bloom. “It’s not an accident that I got this off the ground during Covid.”

The article One Man’s Strange Quest to Make a 50-State Whiskey Blend appeared first on VinePair.

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